This Is A Problem
by angelic1hp
Summary: Nails scratching down her back, tousled hair over her shoulders, hungry kisses tasting of vodka and orgasms to bring the world to a crashing halt An IzzieAddison relationship which started as a drunk one nightstand progresses through the years.Femslash
1. This Is A Problem: I

_This is a problem. A definite problem._

Addison paced around the room, the bed sheet held tightly around her shoulders. Her fingers were white with tension.

Here she was, the morning after the night before.

Nails scratching down her back, tousled hair over her shoulders, hungry kisses tasting of vodka and orgasms to bring the world to a crashing halt.

_A perfectly good night before,_ Addison mused, smirking momentarily before panic invaded her system again.

The night before at Joes. With Izzie. Isobel Stevens, her intern, her charge, her subordinate - so to speak. Drinking with the help isn't the problem – Having sex with them is.

_It happens, it always happens: In Seattle or New York, _she reasoned. She began ticking off the numerous pairings. _Derek and Meredith, obviously. Cristina Yang and Preston. O'Malley and Callie. Mark Sloan and anything with breasts. Everyone's at it._

But Addison had liked to think that she held herself to slightly higher standards. She _cared_ that it was inappropriate. She _cared _about the problems it caused at the hospital. She _cared_ about the differences between interns and attendings.

But that didn't stop her letting Isobel Stevens pin her to the bed, run her tongue over her bare neck and make her quiver…

_Stop it! Stop it!_ She scolded, trying desperately to figure a way out.

You see, after Joes, they'd gone back to Izzie's house. (Izzie, George and _Meredith's_ house.) Izzie left early for rounds, thinking it best to let Addison sleep. And now Addison was stuck in Stevens' room, her face pressed against the door to listen to the sounds of either George or Meredith on a day off downstairs. In addition to this already pathetic situation, she was unable to find her shirt and freezing as apparently interns can't afford heating.

She had two choices: Either hide in here until whoever it was left and possibly, surely be late for her surgery at nine. Or steal a shirt of Isobel's', run out before anyone could see her and try explain it away later.

Addison flopped down on the bed, then froze realising she may have made too much noise. She paused, holding her breath and anxiously listened to any movement from downstairs.

Nothing.

She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes.

_This is ridiculous. I'm one of the top neo-natal surgeons in the continent, if not the planet, and I'm hiding in an interns bedroom, hoping her bitchy friends don't see me._

Sex with Derek may have not been as good as last night but it sure as Hell was a lot simpler afterwards.

That was when she decided, to Hell with it. As a doctor she had an obligation to save lives which came before everything else. _As a mature, successful, independent woman, I have the obligation to myself to not act like such an idiot._

Addison threw off the sheet and marched to the wardrobe. She pulled out a simple white shirt that would do fine. As she pulled it over her head, she was swamped in the smell of Isobel Stevens. And it put her temporarily off balance as her head swam and legs shook slightly with the memory of last night.

After urging herself to pull it together (and several deep breaths while clinging to the wall) Addison was prepared for whatever might happen. She stuffed scattered items back into her bag and pulled her hair back into a tight pony tail.

Bracing herself in front of the door, Addison opened it quickly – ripping the stitches. Sensing no movement from the household resident downstairs, she began to walk lightly to the stairs. _Not sneaking_, she told herself, _just being courteously quiet_.

She took the stairs almost one at a time, one hand gripping the banister as though she might fall. Halfway down, she could see the front door. She was almost there. And there was no movement from whoever else was here.

Too soon.

"Izzie, you are _so_ late, Bailey is rip off your arms. _And_ she won't let you in on the surgery to reattach them."

The warning came before the appearance. And there she was. Meredith Grey rounding the corner and standing at the bottom of the stairs.

It took Grey a second to realise what had happened and when she did, she took a visible step back.

Addison froze. Meredith froze.

Addison did the only thing she could think of, she nervously smiled and cleared her throat.

"Meredith—"

"Dr Montgomery, what are you doing in my house?"

Meredith's tone was more hysterical than she would have liked, more annoyed than she would have liked and less pleasant that she would have liked.

Addison realised that Meredith has absolutely no idea what she might be doing in her house. She could be stealing, spying or trying to murder her for all she knew. The last one probably being the most likely in Meredith's mind.

"I'm sorry, Dr Grey," Addison said tightly, struggling to keep up her winning smile. "I stayed the night. And only woke up. And I have surgery at nine. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Stayed the night? Where?" Meredith asked, clearly not thinking of the implications of the question and just blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"With Stevens. In her room. With Isobel," Addison murmured softly, feeling her chest contract.

"Oh. Oh," Meredith half-gasped, eyebrows shooting upwards as she stepped away as if she might contract some kind of gay disease from Addison.

"Sorry, again. I don't know what you must've been thinking. So now you know I didn't break into your house, Meredith, would it be all right if I left for surgery?" Her tone was light but the way Addison said it let her know that even though Meredith had metaphorically caught her with her pants down; Addison was still the boss and wasn't going to let this undermine her.

"Of course, sorry," Meredith said, visibly flustered and waving erratically at the front door.

"Thanks. I'll see you later Dr. Grey."

--

Addison shut the door of the on-call room, resting her back against it. Izzie sat down on a bed, awkwardly folding her arms, not wanting to appear too stand offish.

"So… Did you find everything all right this morning?" she says finally. Addison looks up, raising an eyebrow. "In the kitchen. You know. Coffee."

"Well. I didn't make it to the kitchen," Addison says, chewing her lip and looking upwards. "As Meredith was there."

Izzie's eyes widened. "Oh. God. Shit. I thought she was supposed to be at the nursing home this morning. She's in at lunchtime. God. Well… Did you two…"

"Uh huh."

"And that went well."

"Extremely well. Meredith embraced me and welcomed me into her home by making me pancakes, telling me all her deep, dark little secrets and brushing my hair," Addison retorted sarcastically.

"Oh."

A silence hung between them, neither entirely sure what to say.

"OK, well," Addison said suddenly and briskly. "Just wanted to let you know that the whole hospital probably knows by now. I have surgery."

As she turned to go, Isobel shot off the bed and put her hand on the doorknob to stop her.

"Wait, Dr M—Addison. Addison, wait," Isobel affirmed. Addison turned round, now almost too close for comfort, inches from Isobel's face. Izzie tried to move back, but she couldn't. "I just wanted… Last night was good," she blurted earnestly.

Addison's lips parted to speak but no words came out.

"It was good. And I don't care about what anyone else will say. The Attending thing… It's hardly an issue with the amount of sex in this hospital. And the girl thing… Well it's not bothered me for a while now. So unless it bothers you, I am… Not bothered," Isobel finished, slightly less than eloquently.

Addison flinched, almost able to feel Isobel's skin inches away from her own. She steeled herself and cleared her throat.

"Well. Good. But I have a thing, so I have to—" she started briskly.

"Go?" Izzie guessed, not moving. The slight smile that had been playing on her lips disappeared.

"Yes. Go," Addison nodded curtly, her mouth feeling dry. "I have a thing… I have surgery."

"So you said," Izzie nodded, swallowing.

"Could I…?" Addison asked nervously, gesturing towards Izzie's hand on the door handle. Izzie shook her head out and watched Addison make her hasty exit.

--

Addison watched the table of the "cool kid" interns from over her glasses, keeping her eye on a specific blond. Izzie looked distracted as she picked through her salad, not taking any notice of why George was moaning or what Cristina was bitching about.

Addison watched as Karev sat down and Yang screeched her chair away from him, clearly annoyed with him for something or other. O'Malley looked happy enough with his lunch, paying no mind to whatever Cristina was saying to Alex.

Addison couldn't help but remember last night every time she saw Izzie, or caught a trace smell of Izzie's perfume on her skin, or even if someone mentioned her name. The memory of last night was accompanied by a dull pleasurable stabbing sensation in the very pit of her stomach. This was coupled with a sweaty, feverish feeling singing through her skin. Not to mention the acid style flashback of sounds and feelings and the way Izzie looked naked.

_No, no. Stop it. I can't be sitting here, ogling my intern from across the room and thinking about her without any clothes on! _Addison scolded herself.

Breathing in and out, she cleared her mind: Only for the images, moans and sweaty feelings to return shortly after.

--

"Izzie, what's wrong? Why aren't you joining in the Alex-Hate?" Cristina demanded, waving a banana in front of Izzie's face.

"What? Nothing," Izzie mumbled, shuffling her fork through salad leaves.

"That's not good enough, I need to hear real bile," Cristina said, chucking salt packets at her. Izzie barely made any move to swat them away.

"Why do we hate Alex?" she asked in a nonchalant tone

"Because we _always_ hate Alex," Karev mimicked in a whiny tone.

"He stole my coffee!" Cristina protested.

"I thought it was going spare!" Alex protested, kicking his legs up on Cristina's lap with a grin. She pushed them off in disgust, rattling them against the table in the process.

"Well. Then you should have asked," George told him with a nervous level of finality to his voice.

"Sorry, sorry," Alex said, rolling his eyes and leaning his head back. "There's just so much more on my mind right now, O'Malley. Man stuff. For men. You wouldn't get it."

"What stuff?" George asked, his voice muffled through his burrito.

"Like getting some tail," he announced, folding his hands behind his head. "If you remember what that's like?"

"And who's giving you any, Syph-boy?" Cristina scoffed.

"O'Malley's Syph-boy," Alex argued.

"You gave it to me!" George protested.

"Just for everyone listening – Not directly," Alex told the unsuspecting diners at the surrounding tables.

"Yeah, you're the original Syph-boy. The one who infected half the hospital," Cristina said, crushing her empty cup.

"Is it my fault I get a lot of sex?" Alex asked breezily.

"It is your fault if you don't bring a hat to the party," Cristina countered, sniggering under her breath.

"Yeah, yeah. Me and twenty others," he mumbled.

"So, who's your next victim?" Cristina asked, leaning over. "So I can warn her you're disease ridden."

"Well, you and Grey've managed to get it on with Attending's," Alex shrugged, grinning slyly. "Is there a club for that? Sign me up, baby."

"Who?" Cristina asked, furrowing her brow. Her face lit up in realisation. "Oh. You and Montgomery?"

At the mention of her name, Izzie came to life, looking anxiously at everyone. "Who and Dr. Montgomery?"

"Alex," George nodded, quite impressed. "She's McHot."

"McYeah," Alex laughed.

"What?" Startled, Izzie pushed her chair back.

"Well, not yet. But I am so gonna hit that," Alex smiled, looking over his shoulder. "Check it out. She so wants me."

Rather indiscreetly, Cristina and George quickly looked over at Addison Montgomery's table to see her surveying them with a curious expression. When she realised they had noticed her, Addison put her head down, coughing lightly.

"Please, Alex. Seriously. Addison Montgomery does not want to sleep with you," Izzie managed to force out, disgusted.

"Are you kidding me? She's all over me!" Alex laughed, tipping his chair back onto two legs.

"She was definitely checking someone out," Cristina nodded, carefully evaluating Dr Montgomery.

"Swear to God, I'll have fucked her by Tuesday," Alex boasted. "Or double your money back."

"You're such a... a…" Izzie stammered, enraged. She stood up and shoved his chest, tipping his chair over so he clattered to the floor. Alex yelped out in pain and surprise as Izzie quickly surveyed the table, looking for something to grab. "Ass!" she snarled, snatching up George's chocolate milkshake, eliciting a small whine of protest from him. Hastily, she opened the top and poured the contents all over Alex as he lay on the ground.

At first Izzie couldn't hear the surrounding applause and cheers from the surrounding diners as her heart was pounding furiously. The sounds of the lunch area came back to her in surround sound as she looked around.

Not believing how she had reacted, Izzie dropped the cup and ran, not noticing that Addison had sat bolt upright and her eyes were following her.

Alex pushed himself off the floor and wiped chocolate milkshake from his eyes. He looked around at the audience that Izzie's stunt had gathered and held his hands up. "She's not over me. What can I tell you?" he shrugged, forcing a smile. He trudged off in the direction of the locker room.

"Izzie's over Alex, right?" Cristina muttered to George.

"Yeah she is," George enthused. "So over."

"So what the Hell was that about?"

"Maybe she's not over him," George said absentmindedly, silently lamenting the loss of his shake. He had waited all morning for that.

"You just said—"

"No. She is. She's definitely over him," George affirmed, snapping his eyes away from the split milkshake.

"Sure? Then why did she make such a scene?" Cristina queried. "Not that it won't be the entire highlight of my month. I can't believe Mere missed it."

"Maybe she's not over him," he wondered aloud.

"George, will you make up your frickin' mind!"

--

Izzie stormed through the corridors of Seattle Grace, not noticing the affronted patients or confused Doctors until she reached the outer hall lined with bed where they all sat on whatever breaks they could manage. She slumped on a bed, holding her head in her hands and let out a fierce shriek of anger and annoyance.

"Izzie?"

She looked up to see Meredith standing in front of her still with bag and her coat on. This was the very last person she wanted to see.

"When did you get in?" Izzie said sniffing as she pushed her hair back. She drew her knees to her chest.

"Just now. I saw you come through here… Did something happen?" Meredith asked gently, leaning on the wall.

"No. Nothing happened," Izzie dismissed, not looking Meredith in the eye.

"Is this… Is this to do with Addison?" Meredith asked cautiously. Izzie looked up, alarmed but before she could answer, Cristina and George appeared behind Meredith.

"Meredith! Jesus, you should have seen it!" Cristina announced, sitting on the bed next to Izzie.

"It was brilliant," George grinned, biting into his apple.

"McFrickin' brilliant," Cristina laughed. "Izzie beat up Alex."

"I did not beat up Alex," Izzie said in a hard tone.

Meredith blinked in surprise. "You beat up Alex?"

"She beat up Alex!" George repeated happily.

"I did not beat up Alex!" Izzie told them all sharply.

"I nearly beat up Alex once," Meredith shrugged. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Me too. I beat him up once too," George nodded enthusiastically.

"I haven't," Cristina huffed. "Not actually or nearly. I feel left out."

"He's easy," George grinned, chewing on his apple.

"I didn't beat him up!" Izzie shouted, standing up.

"Watch out, she's ready to attack," Cristina laughed. "OK, so she pushed him over on his chair and poured milkshake on him."

"_My_ milkshake," George said wistfully.

"It was probably the best thing you'll ever do in your life, Iz," Cristina hummed happily.

Meredith opened her mouth to ask why but shut it again, suspecting the answer. "Well, that's great. I'm gonna go get ready."

As Meredith disappeared from view, Cristina studied Izzie, trying to figure out what was going on in all of this, and how she had a feeling that Meredith somehow knew.

--

Later in the afternoon, Addison was lazily flicking through a chart when Izzie caught her eye. She was moving quickly back and forth, slaloming through employees and patients alike, as if she didn't want to attract anyone's attention. Little did she know everyone was already taking about her. Addison sighed into her Styrofoam coffee cup and couldn't tear her eyes away from the pretty intern as she indexed charts. However, Addy could feel the presence of another sidle up beside her at the desk.

"Dr. Montgomery. And cool vagina surgeries today?" Alex asked, smiling.

"Get the shake out your hair yet, Dr Karev?" Addison countered, suppressing a smile.

"So," Alex started slyly, leaning on his elbows. "I've noticed this look about you the past week or so. Like you're just very very… _hungry_. So, I thought it'd do the decent thing and take you out to dinner."

"What?" Addison asked blankly, having not heard any of it.

"Me. You. Dinner."

"No thanks, I've already eaten," Addison replied distractedly, as her gaze followed Stevens again.

"When I said dinner, I might have meant another kind of _dinner._ Well, when I said hungry. I didn't necessarily mean _hungry,_" Karev smirked.

Addison gave him her full attention, turning to face him and look him in the eye. She gave him a smirk of her own.

"Like I said – I've already eaten."

--

For the rest of the day Izzie kept her head down, diligently checking charts and ferrying patients to surgeries she couldn't take part in. She didn't so much as avoid everyone as hide; offering to do procedures and examinations for the nursing staff and even going so far as helping housekeeping by scrubbing bedpans and changing linen. Anything to keep busy and out of sight.

When her shift was over at last, she couldn't wait to get home and crawl into bed. Humiliated by rejection and her behaviour at lunch had made her want to seek a small dark hole to scurry into. She spoke only in one word answers to her friends, refusing to say anything about Alex or the incident. When she finally walked through the exit doors of Seattle Grace, she sighed in relief, hurrying to her car.

She paused with her key in the door, looking over at Joes with its tacky neon sign lovingly adorning the front of the building. Hesitantly, she put her keys back in her bag, reasoning that one drink would go some way to cure the day she'd had.

Sighing, she gave into her weakness for a glass of wine to wash away the aches and headed over to the bar. Once inside, she scanned the room for any Seattle Grace staff. There were a few nurses who nodded at her, silently thanking her for helping them today. In the corner there were a few interns from other residents' groups who she didn't know that well. They all grinned at her, whispering to each other. Izzie reckoned they'd caught the show at lunchtime.

Shrugging it off as best she could, Izzie approached the bar where Joe was wiping down the surface.

"If it isn't my favourite customer today," Joe grinned, automatically pulling a chilled wine glass from the fridge. "Usual?"

"Please," Izzie smiled taking out her purse. "So you heard?"

"It's all that lot over there are talking about," Joe laughed, pouring the wine and pushing it over. Izzie held out the money. "No, no. We'll call this one a house special. Just wish I'd seen it."

"Thanks," Izzie smiled, stowing her money away. She picked up her glass and moved over to a table in the corner, hoping it would shield her from prying eyes.

She sat and stared at her wine for a while. To her it could have been hours, but it was only minutes. She was only broken out of her day dream by a much needed familiar voice.

"You gonna drink that Stevens or are you just staring it to death?"

Izzie looked up immediately to see Addison standing at her table, smiling gently and holding a wine glass of her own. Izzie smiled widely before remembering their conversation earlier and Addison's coldness. She stiffened herself, clearing her throat.

"I am drinking it," Izzie replied defensively. "Just not actively, right this second."

"OK," Addison said, bemused. "Can I sit?"

"You're my boss, you can do want you want," Izzie answered breezily, taking a sip.

Addison eased into the seat, as if not wanting to upset the delicate balance between them. Before she could say anything, Izzie blurted out, "So you want to know what happened with Alex? Everyone does. Sad to say, it's seriously all anyone's talking about. Like nothing else happens."

Izzie started tapping her fingers in an erratic beat on her glass, clearly anxious.

"It was a quiet day," Addison remarked, playing with the bottom of her glass gingerly. "So what did he do to make you pour milkshake all over him?"

"He was just being Alex," Izzie dismissed, drumming louder.

"Must have been something worse than usual?" Addison fished around for a proper response.

"Like I said, he's an ass. Alex is an ass. Can't really say much more than he's a gigantic ass who needs—"

Addison caught Izzie's hand mid-tap and held it, looking at her intently.

"Izzie."

Izzie paused, biting her lip and glanced up at her Attending. "He said things about you."

"About you and I?" Addison asked, her gaze not wavering.

"About you and him," Izzie said, pulling her hand out of Addison's grasp.

"There's nothing between—"

"He doesn't think so," Izzie bit in. "He thinks you're all over him."

Addison sat back, still looking intently at her. She smiled softly and accidentally let a sigh escape her lips. "Are you jealous?"

"No. No, I'm not," Izzie replied in a low voice, throwing back a fair bit of her wine.

"Then why are you—"

"I'm pissed off," Izzie responded honestly, her nostrils flaring. She stared at Addison. "Did you just want to fuck an intern? Just an itch needing scratched? Score to settle? Just because you're McHot—"

"I'm McHot?" Addison goggled. "As opposed to McDreamy and McSteamy – I'm McHot?"

"Yes, you're McHot," Izzie replied in a bored tone.

After a moments contemplation, Addison burst into peals of laughter. It took a small while, but seeing Addison in such raptures of delight made Izzie crack a smile. Addison calmed herself down, taking a drink and shaking her head.

"McHot!" Addison scoffed under her breath.

"You are McHot," Izzie reluctantly muttered softly.

"Yeah?" Addison smiled warmly. "Well. Contrary to popular - Or Alex Karev's belief, I am not all over him. Not happening."

"Oh," Izzie nodded slowly. "Well, it's none of my business anyway."

"Right. Because you weren't jealous," Addison nodded as well, a smile playing on her lips.

"Because I wasn't jealous," Izzie affirmed, looking Addison in the eye. Izzie felt a cold shiver creep up her back and was sure Addison knew she was lying.

They looked at each other for a while. Silently, they drank and they looked. Neither really sure what to say first and sure if anything should be said at all.

"I'm sorry," Addison said finally. "About this morning in the on-call room. I was wound up. Meredith at the house… I didn't mean... I didn't know what I wanted."

"You didn't know or you don't know?" Izzie ventured, draining the last of her wine nervously.

"Didn't," Addison said decidedly. "Because after I saw you beating up Karev, my mind was made up."

"I didn't beat him up," Izzie smiled, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, you didn't?" Addison teased, feigning confusing and moving to get up. "Oh well. Guess I was wrong. Be seeing you, Stevens."

"Wait," Izzie said immediately, grabbing Addison's hand. "Maybe I did beat him up."

"Thought so," the red head grinned, sitting down to finish her wine,

Again, they sat in silence. Each with an empty glass but each with their minds on other things than alcohol.

"I had to borrow a shirt," Addison smiled quietly. "This morning. I borrowed your shirt."

"Well," Izzie said playfully. "I want it back. Tonight. If possible."

"Well maybe I could bargain with you. Give you one of mine," Addison said thoughtfully. "I have some at my hotel."

"I could walk you there," Izzie suggested, threading her fingers through Addison's.

"And it would only be polite if I offered you coffee," Addison nodded, her smile growing by the second.

"Only polite," Izzie shrugged as she stood up, grabbing her coat and not letting Addison's hand go.

--

Waking up to Izzie Stevens kissing your neck wasn't a bad start to the day. Addison had learned this over the past few days while they camped out at the hotel. However, as they had abandoned the Archfield last night in favour of Izzie's room, it could only go downhill from there.

"Addy," Izzie murmured in her lovers skin. She traced her fingertips over Addison's back, hoping to engage some sort of a reaction. "Addison."

"What?" Addison asked groggily.

"Addy, you have to wake up," Izzie told her, trying to pull Addison's body to face her as they usually slept spooning.

"What time is it? Do I have to?" Addison said into her pillow.

"Its half five," Izzie whispered.

"Are you kidding? We only got to sleep an hour ago," she groaned, curling herself into a protective ball.

"I know. And you have to get up," Izzie said urgently.

"What are you promising?" Addison asked with an edge of wickedness to her tired voice.

"Whatever you want. Tonight. But you have to get up and go now," Izzie pleaded.

"Seriously?" Addison turned back over, trying to burrow herself in the duvet.

"Seriously. You have to go before everyone wakes up. Rounds at seven."

"There is no way I'm getting up. Meredith knows. How bad can George be? He's just a little… kitten puppy baby…" Addison reasoned lazily, drifting back to sleep. Izzie shook her to keep her awake.

"Not George. Derek. Derek's staying the night with Meredith and he doesn't know."

Addison fluttered her eyes open. "Why should I care if Derek knows? Divorce is very therapeutic. Rids you of caring who's screwing who. Most of the time."

"You might not care, but Derek will. And that'll cause a problem with Meredith. And Meredith will cause a problem with the rest of the hospital. So. Get up," Izzie commanded, sitting up cross legged.

"Why can't he be the one to get up and leave early?" Addison moaned, pulling a pillow in front of her face.

"Don't be stupid," Izzie scolded, pulling the pillow off her. She leaned over Addison, pushing the red hair out her face. "This is why we should stay at the hotel."

"Hotels are so… impersonal. I like your room," Addison smiled, wrapping an arm around Izzie. "And anyway, we should blame the vat of wine last night for the crappy location choice."

"Well you'll never get to see the inside of this house again unless you leave now," Izzie half-threatened, kissing Addison quickly. "Up."

"Right," Addison sighed, giving in.

--

After another long day at the hospital, Derek and Meredith had bypassed Joes and came straight home, just wanting to curl up in bed together. Meredith shot upstairs, feeling the urgent need to be lying down while he trudged up behind her.

Passing Izzie Stevens' bedroom door, Derek heard some curious noises.

"Derek?" Meredith asked, putting her head out of her bedroom door. "You coming?"

"Yeah, yeah," Derek waved, cautiously creeping closer to Izzie's door. "I didn't know Izzie was seeing someone."

"Yeah. Well. She is," Meredith shrugged, nervously grinning. "Come on."

"Just a minute," Derek said, inching closer and listening intently.

"Derek! That is so creepy! And disgusting. You cannot listen to my roommates having sex!" Meredith protested, grabbing his arm.

"I'm not," he said defensively. "I just thought I heard something familiar."

"It's people having sex," Meredith told him. "Everyone knows what that sounds like."

--

Derek looked over at the clock, reading a little past five. He couldn't sleep. He was too hot, thirsty and restless. He sat up and watched Meredith peaceful snoring with envy and sighed.

He kissed her forehead and eased out from between the sheets. Throwing on a T-Shirt and boxers so as not to alarm the other people in the house should he encounter them, Derek made his way downstairs to the kitchen. All was quiet as he poured himself a glass of milk and drained it in one gulp.

Feeling refreshed, he headed back upstairs, pausing halfway up as he heard sounds originating from Izzie's room. He shook his head, grinning and continued.

As he passed Izzie's door on the way back to Meredith's, he paused as he heard more familiar noises. A low guttural moan and someone screaming the blonde interns name in ecstasy.

"Couldn't be," he murmured to himself, sinking into shock. He leaned against the wall and slid down, trying to convince himself that he was wrong.

The noises had stopped and all that was left was a deafening silence. He pushed back his hair, not feeling tired at all.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting out in the hall. Could have been minutes or hours. He went over everything in his mind. Every little detail of what he thought he knew but couldn't be true.

Derek's mind working was interrupted by quiet footsteps and the bedroom door creaking open. He looked up and his stomach sank.

"Derek," Addison whispered, jumping back in shock. She quickly shut the door. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you what you were doing in there," he countered, looking at his ex-wife fiercely.

"Get up," Addison commanded, grabbing him by the arm. She attempted to sneak him quietly down the stairs and out of the front door but he pulled his arm out of her grasp. "Derek, outside," she hissed. "Or do you want to wake everyone up? Because I can tell we're not going to have a very quiet talk. After eleven years of marriage, I can just read the signs."

Tightening his lips, Derek followed her down stairs and outside, closing the door behind them.

"So, want to tell me what you were doing?" he asked harshly, folding his arms. "And what the Hell you think you're playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything, Derek," Addison told him in a hushed voice.

"Is this to get back at me? Sleeping with someone in the next room?" Derek fired, his voice rising.

"Of course not!" Addison said vehemently. "If it was, why would I be sneaking out before anyone woke up?"

Derek opened his mouth and then shut it again.

"Yes, Derek, that's right. Not everything revolves around you. This is nothing to do with you," she hissed.

"What are you _doing_ Addy? With Izzie Stevens?" Derek said incredulously.

"If you're giving me a lecture on proper Intern-Attending relations, then it would come a lot better if it wasn't from a hypocrite," Addison sneered.

"It's nothing to do with her being an intern!" Derek yelled, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "She's a… She's a…"

"A girl?" Addison asked, half amused.

"Yes, a girl. A woman. A female – Whatever!" Derek spat, throwing his hands up.

"Pretty one at that, Derek," Addison smiled, her bad side wanting to have some fun toying with him. "Point A Derek : It's nothing to do with you who I date and vice versa. Point B : If I choose to be with a woman then again – it's nothing to do with you," Addison told him forcefully.

"Yes it is!"

"Why, Derek? Why?" Addison asked, folding her arms. "Well?"

"We were married."

"And we're not anymore," Addison said simply.

"But we were married. And you're with a… You're a…" Derek stammered.

"Derek, I don't particularly care what I am or what you want to class me as. I'm happy and I'm moving on. Simple as that. And you're just going to have to accept it," Addison said, her eyes flaring.

Derek held out his arms and dropped them to his sides like a rag doll. He sat down on the front step, and rubbed his eyes. Addison felt her anger deflating and sat down beside him.

"Don't get me wrong, Addy. I want you to be happy," Derek sighed. "Honestly. It's just… Did you always feel this way?"

"Sometimes," Addison nodded. "Doesn't mean I didn't love you. We had a good life together, for the most part. But that's over."

He let out a deep sigh of relief and looked at her gently. "It was a good family, you and me."

"Until it wasn't," she reminded him.

"Until slutty interns entered the picture. For both of us," Derek teased.

Addison laughed and pulled her arms around her. "This is great. This means I get to sleep in."

"Well I'm glad it's working out," Derek laughed.

"Me too," she groaned. "I cannot survive on two hours sleep."

"Yeah? Well your antics across the hall were keeping me up. And I don't see that issue being resolved. What are you doing all night anyway? I had no idea the stamina and appetite—" Derek trailed off.

"Ok!" Addison announced, slightly mortified, standing up. "Now that we're something resembling friends, I still don't feel that good about discussing my sex life with you."

"I wasn't discussing your sex life," Derek dismissed, looking up at her. "Do you want to discuss your sex life? Because, as a friend, I'll find it in me to bear hearing about your sex life. Go ahead, try me."

"You know what, Derek? I think I'll pass," Addison nodded slowly, a smile sneaking on her lips. "And go inside. Back to bed."

"Back to your slutty intern," Derek quipped.

"And you'll go back to yours. And the world will be at rights again," Addison told him as she opened the door with a gracious flourish.

"Anytime, Addy. I'll be that friend," Derek half smiled as he stood up.

"No, Derek," Addison said in sing-song voice over her shoulder as she started on the stairs. She paused and whirled round. "And just so you know – I think your girlfriend would find it _uncool_ to think about her roommate and your ex-wife in bed together. Just a heads up so you don't go getting on Meredith's bad side," Addison winked and ran up the stairs back to bed.


	2. Gossip At Seattle Grace: II

Addison slipped back into Izzie's room, quietly dropping her bag and kicking off her shoes. She pulled back the sheets and eased into bed, careful not to wake Izzie.

Addison sat up, head on her hand and contended herself watching Izzie sleep. Gently, she brushed a few stray blonde hairs from Izzie's forehead and snuggled down. Closing her eyes, she welcomed sleep to take hold of her again, but it wouldn't come. Her talk with Derek had clearly woken her up beyond repair.

So she continued to watch her sleeping lover, enjoying the gentle rise and fall of Izzie's chest and the slightly pink blush to her cheeks. Addison couldn't help but smile as she looked at Izzie. She feared it was uncontrollably contagious how she felt about Izzie already. It had only been a week but still no one outside the house knew. However, Addison was sure that if anyone cared to ask her who put the smile on her face all day, she couldn't help but tell them.

Yes, it would be complicated. She wasn't entirely sure how Richard would react. He had apparently been understanding of Preston and Cristina's relationship – presumably because Preston informed him first hand. However, he initially wasn't happy at the thought of his head of Neuro-Surgery dating his old mistresses daughter. _Probably because they kept it a secret_, Addison mused. Now, it was fine. And contained. Derek and Meredith knew, and as far as Addison could estimate, they would both respect them enough not to gossip.

True, she and Derek had been divorced for over half year now, but that didn't mean she didn't know who he was anymore. They were on fair terms now, but even if they weren't, she knew Derek would be the last one to run off and trade saucy gossip with the nurses by the water cooler. Meredith hadn't told Cristina, so Izzie had said, because she didn't want it getting round and back to Derek. Well now Derek knew, would Meredith be so inclined to keep it to herself?

Addison wanted to tell the Chief out of her deep respect for him, but she was afraid it was too soon to broach the subject with Izzie. Was it too soon? Was Addison making too big a deal of the fact they spent the last seven nights in each others arms? Was she moving too fast?

On the other hand, it won't be long until it got out, and Richard found out from someone else. He would be so disappointed that she hadn't confided in him first, especially as Izzie was an intern.

Deep in thought, Addison didn't notice that Izzie was stirring from sleep until she felt a warm arm around her waist.

Izzie had done this automatically as she woke, checking that Addison was still sleeping next to her. Then she realised that Addison had left earlier to sneak out before everyone woke up. Izzie's eyes flickered open and struggled to focus from lack of sleep.

"Addy?" she murmured, yawning deeply. "I thought you'd gone."

"Oh, you mean when you kicked me out?" Addison teased, stroking her cheek. "I came back."

"Why?" Izzie asked, moving forward to snuggle into Addison's shoulder.

"Because Derek caught me," Addison whispered, kissing Izzie's forehead. "Coming out of your room. We talked."

Izzie nodded lazily. She let this information filter through to her brain. Startled when she realised what had actually happened, she awoke properly and pushed herself up onto her arms. "What? Shepherd caught you?"

"It's all right. I mean, I'm sure it's something for him to think about. But it'll be all right," Addison smiled, pulling Izzie closer to her. "Don't worry."

"And he's OK? His head didn't implode? I thought you said his head would implode."

"Well, it didn't. He thought I was trying to get back at him," Addison told her, wearing a mock grave expression on her face. "And I was. So there's no need to be sleeping with you anymore. Job done."

"Shut up. You're not funny or cool," Izzie snorted, rolling her eyes.

"I'm a little bit cool," Addison smiled shyly.

"Not. One. Bit," Izzie told her firmly, punctuating each word with a kiss. "You just think you are."

"So does everyone else," Addison said seriously. "It's all they talk about. 'There's McHot over there looking all_ cool_.' That's what they say."

"Sure. Bit of a contradiction, don't you think?" Izzie teased.

"Contradictions, Dr Stevens? A smart model. Who knew?" Addison joked.

"You really wanna play the model card, huh?"

"Hey, I'm McHot, I can play anything I want," Addison grinned.

"I seriously wish I'd never told you about McHot," Izzie groaned, smoothing back Addison's hair. She paused, looking at the red head intently. "So. Derek knows. Everyone else will soon."

"Probably," Addison nodded.

"So we should tell the Chief, right? That would be the thing to do here. I mean, that's what Burke did and it was all fine."

Addison grinned widely, just nodding.

--

Addison yawned and tried to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing. She glanced up at the clock on the wall of her office, which told her it was exactly twenty eight minutes until her meeting with Richard. She rubbed her eyes, willing herself to feel more awake when she heard a soft knock at the open door.

She looked up to see Izzie holding two cups of coffee and smiled.

"You OK?"

"Apart from the significant lack of sleep Dr Stevens, I'm fine," Addison sighed, standing up to take the coffee and close the door behind Izzie.

"No one's here. You don't have to call me that. Pretend to be all 'professional'," Izzie grinned, tugging on the neck of Addison's lab coat to pull her in for a kiss.

"You're just lucky I have blinds, Dr Stevens," Addison murmured into her lips.

"So after you've told the Chief, you just gonna keep them open? Everyone out there could learn a thing or two," Izzie joked quietly, kissing Addison with fervour. She took hold of her Attendings' waist and pulled her round to the desk, sliding Addison on top of it.

"Izzie," Addison gasped, as the blonde started kissing her neck, deftly undoing the top button of her blouse with the greatest of ease. Addison looked up at the clock. "There's twenty six minutes until I meet the Chief."

"Then I'll make 'em count," Izzie breathed into Addison's ear. "It'll have to be a quickie. Think we can manage that?" Izzie asked, both her hands sliding under Addison's pencil skirt, softly travelling upwards. "I know how you prefer a long, _slow_ screw."

Addison shut her eyes and tried to think of dead puppies, African famine, baseball (What the _Hell_ did she know about baseball?): Anything that would make her at least half as aroused as she was now so she could function and wouldn't cave in to Izzie's demands.

Suffice to say, her attempts were in vain as Izzie hooked her fingers into the waistband of her underwear and slowly, _agonisingly_ pulled them down.

"Oh, God, Izzie," Addison rasped into Izzie's hair, pulling her close.

"Call me Dr. Stevens. I know how you like it," Izzie dared, her teeth grazing Addison's neck.

"Shut up," Addison commanded, pulling Izzie's lips to hers for a needy kiss. She grasped the back of Izzie's head, her hand tangled in her hair. She kissed Izzie hungrily and didn't stop kissing her, as if her starvation would never be sated. "Dr Stevens," she breathed into Izzie's skin.

"Addy," Izzie whispered, trailing her kisses from Addison's mouth, down her throat, to her neck and chest. She eased Addison's skirt up gently, kneeling down.

Addison Forbes Montgomery gripped the table and squeezed her eyes shut. In this moment, she remembered the very good reason as to exactly why she had been feeling perpetually exhausted for the past week. There was no stopping, or pausing, or just cuddling up with a good film for some teenage-type chaste kissing. There was need and passion and the spark between them which would knock out the power for at least half of Seattle.

It wasn't just a need for carnal pleasure, whoever it may be with. This was about Izzie, and her and them being together in this way; an all consuming urge to feel and touch and kiss. To feel the others bare skin against theirs and drive each other crazy with desire

In all truth it scared her rigid. She couldn't remember being so instinctually attracted to someone where it got to the point when she _had_ to have them, when it felt like oxygen was short during all the long minutes in between being together. Losing control was something that Addison Montgomery detested – Giving complete control of her to someone else was even worse.

And if there was one thing Dr Isobel Stevens was good at, it was making her surrender control so completely and make her thankful for doing so.

Addison's nails dug into the soft wood of the desk, her toes curled in her shoes and she was doing her very, utmost best not to scream in ecstasy.

So preoccupied was Addison with the earth shattering waves of pleasure reverberating through her body, she didn't hear the door open.

"Dr. Montgomery, the patient in three—"

A chart clattered to the ground and the disturbance interrupted the tightly woven spell Izzie had cast. Addison's eyes flew open and she looked towards the door.

George O'Malley, her intern for today, stood agape at the door, an empty space between his hands where the chart had been.

He stared at her. Not speaking. Not moving. Not even closing his mouth. As if he could stay completely still and no one would notice him.

"Addison, what…?" Izzie started, confused and peering up. She followed Addison's stunned gaze towards the door and saw her best friend standing there motionless. "Oh, God," she muttered, quickly getting to her feet. Her back to George, she discreetly wiped her mouth with the cuff of her lab coat and turned round, her body covering Addison.

For a while, neither George nor Addison moved, with Izzie searching her highly educated mind for something to say. She guessed she didn't have to explain – the situation pretty much spoke for itself.

"O'Malley," Addison spoke finally, her voice sounding dazed and high pitched. "Did you want something?"

George flickered to life, like someone had pressed his 'on' button.

"I… You… the patient… You know what, I can… I can come back later," George stammered, turning to exit. He spun around again, ducking to pick up his chart and practically ran out the door.

Izzie turned to Addison, kissing her motionless lover swiftly on the cheek. "I'm gonna go after him."

Izzie had sprinted out after her friend as Addison nodded slowly, "Good idea."

-

Izzie ran down the OB GYN corridor after George, seeing the flicker of blue scrubs in motion before her. She called after him, but he didn't let up. She could see he had stopped at the elevator, hammering the call button. Impatiently, he ducked into the next door along which led to the stairwell, with Izzie an arms length away from him.

He stopped, letting himself fall against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

"George, why did you run?" Izzie asked, her heart racing. "I'm sor—"

"I am so embarrassed," George squirmed, still not opening his eyes. "I am so, so embarrassed. I'm so sorry."

Izzie put her hands on his shoulders and let out a small laugh of relief. "It's OK, George. Don't be sorry. It was an accident."

He opened his eyes and looked at her in disbelief. "It was an accident? So you just tripped, fell and ended up... Uh… Doing that?"

"Shut up, George. Not that. I meant you walking in. Was an accident. Could've happened to anyone. Addison needs a lock, I'll tell you," Izzie sighed, shaking her head and trying to inject some levity into the situation.

"So you and…" George trailed off.

"Dr Montgomery," Izzie filled in the blank.

"Wasn't an accident?" he half-squeaked. Izzie smiled at him again. His shock and innocence was adorably endearing.

"No. That wasn't an accident," Izzie told him sombrely.

"Is Dr Montgomery your _girlfriend_?" George goggled, his voice reaching ridiculously high pitches for a boy.

"I don't know about 'girlfriend.' Perhaps a 'special lady friend?' " Izzie joked, trying to relax George.

"This isn't funny!" George exclaimed, clenching his fists, startling Izzie with his anger and annoyance. Her smile faded instantly. "What are you doing, Iz? Why did you lie to me? How couldn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," Izzie said sarcastically. "How could you go off and get married without telling me?"

"That's different! She's your boss! She's an Attending!" he spluttered.

"Are you actually kidding, George? It's pretty obvious around here that Interns dating above their station is hardly a sacking offence," Izzie snapped. "You and Callie, you goddamn hypocrite."

"That's different, that's… that's…" George stammered, his face reddening by the second from embarrassment.

"Because it's different? Because it's me and Addison," Izzie nodded, understanding perfectly, tasting bitterness and feeling tears prick her eyes. "George, in ten minutes, Addison is going to walk into Chief Webbers' office and tell him about our relationship," Izzie bit every word angrily. "Everyone in this hospital is going to be scrutinising us and gossiping about us by the end of the day. Do you not think I'm terrified? Don't you think I might need some support instead of childish crap?"

George dropped his eyes and slumped down on the bottom step. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"OK," Izzie sighed and sat beside him.

He looked up her slowly, with a sad sort of smile, shrugging. "I don't care that you're with Addison. Wait. No. I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I do care. I do care. It's just not a… thing." He sighed deeply and tried to start again. "I mean – I just want you to be happy, Iz. You've been so sad… And I've been happy, with Callie. But still sad because you were sad and I couldn't do anything and… I'm glad you've found someone that could make you happy," he said, taking her hand in both of his. He broke out in a wide grin. "Plus she's McHot."

Izzie laughed softly, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry I freaked. It's just that was the _last_ place I expected to find you," George mumbled, going red at the memory.

"What?" Izzie asked, playing dumb with a smile teasing her lips. "Going down on Addison Montgomery?"

"La la la," George hummed loudly, his hands flying up instantly to cover his ears.

"Quit acting like you're so delicate, George," Izzie said, rolling her eyes and shouldering him. "You're forgetting sex-machine-George and the time I saw you completely naked and ready for action."

"Stop it!" a furiously blushing George pleaded, burrowing his head in his arms.

"Come to think of it – Maybe that's what turned me," Izzie teased thoughtfully.

"Do you really think?" George asked, crestfallen.

"No," Izzie said obviously. "I think it was one red-headed Attending taking me hard against—"

"La la la!" George practically yelled, covering his ears again.

Izzie smiled and pulled his hands down to his lap. "Are we OK?"

"Of course. As long as you never tell Callie what I saw," George said seriously. "She might get jealous."

"No George, she'd want a foursome," Izzie grinned. "That Callie's freaky, I'll tell ya."

George opened his mouth to retaliate before stopping and deciding not to take the bait. "You're kidding, right?"

"Yes," Izzie told him convincingly, pulling him into a hug. "Maybe."

George pulled back, staring hard at her. "Izzie."

"Kidding. Of course," Izzie waved dismissively.

"I… Shut up," George said decidedly, pulling her into a quick hug.

--

It took Addison a minute to recover use of her body, but when she did, she jumped off the desk and slammed shut the door. Breathing heavily, she looked at the clock sharply.

How the Hell was she supposed to see the Chief in this condition?

She had to. There was no cancelling or turning back now.

_Water, I need water,_ she decided, opening to the door to head to the bathroom.

She paused, realising that her underwear was still lying beside her desk. She snatched them up quickly and put them in her pocket.

She made her way to the toilets without acknowledging or looking at her fellow workers. Once inside, she checked that no one was in any of the stalls and stared at herself in the mirror.

She couldn't help but laugh at herself and the state she was in. Having said that, any woman interrupted mid-orgasm would have reacted the same way. She splashed some water on her cheeks and hot forehead, sighing. Inside her head, she scolded herself for acting so stupidly.

"Get it together," she told her reflection sternly. She withdrew her underwear from her pocket and slipped them on. Smoothing herself down, and drying her face, she decided she was ready to see the Chief.

Richard Webber sat at his desk, massaging his forehead. He had just heard some news, albeit not intended for his ears, and was gravely troubled. He knew fraternisation between hospital staff couldn't be avoided. There were some relationships in the hospital he did know about and many more encounters he was sure he didn't want to know.

But this one worried him to no end, especially as it involved an Attending he had a soft spot for and an intern he knew was going through some difficult times. If he knew, it was only a matter of time before the other staff involved in this romantic entanglement knew. And such news could only cause friction and hostility.

Still, Addison Montgomery would be in his office at any moment and Richard hoped there was a damn good explanation for all of this.

A faint knock at the door signalled the start of the meeting that Richard was sure to get no enjoyment out of. He nodded towards the door.

"Come in, Addison."

She opened the door, smiling nervously and closed it delicately behind her. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk which she accepted.

"Richard, I'm glad you could see me—" Addison started as she wrung her hands together.

He sighed and shook his head. "Addison, I think I know why you wanted to see me."

"Oh?" Addison enquired faintly, feeling her hands started to moisten.

"You said it was a personal matter you felt you should bring to my attention. And I'm afraid to say that someone else has got there before you," Richard said, standing up and perching on the edge of his office couch, to the side of Addison.

"W-Who was this?" Addison asked, clearing her throat mid-sentence.

"It doesn't particularly matter, Addison," Webber exhaled. "And I respect that you wanted to tell me first. But the news of another one of my Attendings being romantically involved with an Intern doesn't exactly fill me with joy. Especially this Intern."

"Chief, I know it's complicated," Addison started, readying herself for whatever he might say. She had no idea he would react this way to Izzie. A part of her felt gravely annoyed that he would take such exception to their coupling over everyone elses.

"It's more than complicated," Webber said warningly. "It's stupid. You know how fast gossip travels this place. It's a wonder we ever save any lives from the amount of personal scandals and hearsay around here.

"Richard…"

"And have you thought about Dr. Torres in all of this?" Richard ploughed on. "I thought you two were friends. And now this? How do you think she'll feel having to work with you both everyday?"

"Dr Torres?" Addison blinked, not quite sure what she was hearing. "She's nothing to do with this. I mean, I'm sure she'd be fine—"

"Fine?" Richard repeated, standing up and pacing. "I know I'm not one to lecture about this sort of thing, Addy, but she will definitely not be _fine._ Think about how you felt working with Meredith."

"Meredith?" Addison echoed, sitting up straight. She couldn't believe this. She balled her fists inside pockets, shocked and angered by his reaction. She had expected so much more from him than to list all the people her relationship might make uncomfortable.

"I know it's a difficult time. Losing a loved one, early marriage and I can understand that he must be a mess," Richard said, running a hand over his head. "But this affair can't continue at Seattle Grace, Addison."

Addison stood up indignantly. "You can't fire any one of us for this, Richard," she told him dangerously. "It's illegal and you know it."

"Well it can't go on!" Richard said loudly, holding his hands up. "I have a hospital to think about! I don't want to lose you or him but that's the way it'll have to be!"

"Richard—" Addison started, ready to yell at full capacity. But she paused, tilted her head and smiled funnily at him.

"What? You think this is funny, Addison?" he said angrily. "Because let me tell you, breaking up a marriage isn't funny!"

She laughed softly, flopping down in her chair and shaking her head. Her quiet laughter turned into bursts of hilarity and before long she was uncontrollable.

"Addison," Richard said sharply.

"I'm sorry, Richard," she said, wiping her eyes and trying to calm down but she couldn't help her utter amusement at the situation.

"Addison, you better explain yourself very quickly," Richard said, moving round to face her.

"Who am I having this illicit, clandestine affair with?" Addison asked, struggling to wipe the smirk from her lips.

"What?" Richard echoed, not sure where she was going.

"Who?"

"George O'Malley," Richard said slowly, looking at Addison like she had gone insane. She whooped with laughter again, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"No, no I'm not," Addison said breathlessly, trying to compose herself.

"You're not having an affair with O'Malley?"

"No. Absolutely not," Addison confirmed, shaking her head vigorously. "I am not having… No. One hundred percent not. Where did you hear that?"

"One of the nurses overhead O'Malley in the stairwell arguing about you," Richard said carefully as he sat down behind his desk. "But they—"

"They got it wrong, yes," Addison grinned, feeling more laughter rising. Slowly, the Chief cracked a smile and not before long he was laughing heartily away with Addison at the absurdity of the situation.

"Well," Richard said, trying to catch his breath. "I'm sorry, Addy."

"It's all right. I was confused why you were taking it so badly," Addison sighed through mirth, shaking her head and raising her eyes to the ceiling. She winced. "My stomach hurts from laughing."

"Taking what badly?" Richard asked before realisation dawned. "You are seeing an Intern…"

"Yes, Richard, that's what I wanted to talk about. That's why I got mixed up," Addison said, suddenly becoming very serious. She sat forward, studying at him intently.

"Karev?" he broke in, his face relaxing.

"No," she said quickly. "Stevens. Izzie Stevens."

Richard couldn't help the fact that his eyes had widened considerably and his mouth was hanging agape. "I'm sorry?"

"Izzie Stevens," she repeated, becoming slightly uncomfortable.

He started to laugh again, in spite of his seriousness. Addison still studying him, not sure how he was taking this. "Well I understand why you were so upset," he chortled. Slowly a smile spread over Addison's face.

"And you're OK with this."

"And I'm OK with this," Richard nodded, smiling. "Don't get me wrong – I'm not happy about another Attending-Intern affair. You'll have to be careful this doesn't affect your work."

"Of course," Addison nodded resolutely.

"And thank you for coming to me," he said, nodding with a quiet respect. "And Stevens is a lovely… girl. I'm glad you're happy."

"Thank you," Addison said, relieved beyond words. She stood up to leave, feeling emotionally exhausted.

"And you know me, Addy, I'm hip," Richard shrugged awkwardly. "I'm down with whatever… flies. I'm all about the… rainbow."

"Good to know," Addison said, bemused.

"You know I have a cousin—" he started, before Addison held up her hands.

"Thank you, Richard," she smiled, bowing out of his office.

--

Addison sighed deeply once outside Richard's office and clear of his window.

"So. How'd it go?"

Addison looked up to see Izzie on bridge in front of her, leaning on the side and looking outside the hospital. Addison smiled, standing next to her.

"Hilariously well," Addison smirked, discreetly taking Izzie's hand by her side and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We have a problem though."

"What?"

"The Chief thought," Addison paused, shaking her head. "He thought that George and I were together. Instead of you."

"Seriously?" Izzie said, trying not to laugh.

"Yes, seriously. It's all round the hospital, Izzie," Addison said, biting her lip. "I have to go talk to Callie."

"Sure, yeah," Izzie nodded, looking out over the hospital floor. "God, they've been married two minutes. She'll be looking to tear George a new one."

"I should probably find her sooner, rather than later," Addison said, concerned. "I'll find you later on for the Dalton premy's heart surgery."

"I'm scrubbing in?" Izzie asked, delighted. "Wow. Sleeping with the boss does have its perks sure enough. I shoulda listened to Cristina and Meredith a long time ago."

"You've been working with the mother for the past month," Addison told her. "You deserve it. I cleared it with Miranda weeks ago. The only perk of sleeping with _this_ boss, Dr Stevens, is all the amazing sex," she added in a low voice, grinning.

"It's better than nothing," Izzie sighed, smiling back as Addison walked away, slowly letting go of her hand.

--

Addison was aware that everyone was talking about her and her fantasy affair with O'Malley. She walked into a room and everyone stopped talking. As soon as she left, they resumed chattering like chipmunks on speed. They looked at her in the corridors and made a show of swerving to avoid her. In truth, Addison Montgomery felt like the concentrated human embodiment of the Ebola virus. She was sure it would be only hours before everyone started screaming in terror and running the opposite way.

She'd searched the orthopedics ward for Callie and hadn't found anyone willing to tell her where the resident was. Sighing, Addison headed for the locker room, hoping to find Meredith or George. At least they knew the truth and didn't entirely hate her.

As she approached the door, she heard raised voices, or more accurately, one raised voice. Callie IphegeniaO'Malley Torres sounding like she was in the process of 'ripping George a new one.'

Cautiously, Addison peeked round the door to see George, his back flat against a row of lockers, and Callie paced like a caged wild cat.

"—George, if you're going to deny something, you might wanna make it sound at least a little plausible. Are you telling me everyone in this hospital woke up this morning and pulled this 'theory' out their collective asses?"

"Callie, I would—I would tell you. But I can't. It's Izzie, she—" George stammered, doing his best to explain.

"Izzie. Am I surprised?" Callie asked rhetorically.

"I—"

"No. Not really, George. The answer is I'm not surprised. Might've known this would have something to do with your weird, secretive friends," Callie groaned, throwing her hands up.

"Callie," Addison called from the doorway.

"Addison. Maybe you can explain why everyone thinks you're having an affair with my husband—yes, George, you are my husband—Because he seems entirely incapable of stringing a few words together," Callie said, frustrated.

"Yes," Addison nodded, coming in and closing the door. "I'm sorry, George, for all this."

"That's OK, Dr Montgomery," George mumbled, looking at the floor. "I promised Izzie I wouldn't say anything until she was ready."

"Again. I'm still not understanding. Someone want to tell me what's going on?" Callie was near enough begging for answers.

"Callie," Addison started. "George and I aren't... We're not together. We haven't ever been. And really not ever likely to be."

"OK," Callie breathed out. "So why is everyone saying this?"

"Because someone misheard George and Izzie talking," Addison said slowly as she sat down on a bench.

"So someone was eavesdropping and deduced that you were having an affair?" Callie asked, not quite believing it. She turned to George. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing! I was saying nothing!" he protested.

"It wasn't him," Addison shook her head. "It was Izzie."

Callie massaged her temples, still not making sense of the situation.

"What does Izzie have to do with any of this again?" she asked, exasperated.

"Because… Because it's Izzie that I'm seeing. Izzie and I are together. And George just found out this morning—"

"Not my fault," George added quietly.

"And Izzie went after him and talked to him. Someone overheard and just assumed the wrong intern," Addison shrugged, smiling nervously.

"You're seeing Izzie, not George," Callie clarified. Addison simply nodded. Callie let out a deep breath of relief. "All right. Wow, I was worried. I didn't really believe it, but you know there's always that small nagging doubt at the back of your mind."

"George is one hundred percent faithful to my knowledge," Addison affirmed.

"Good," Callie laughed. "Pretty funny mix-up."

"Yeah, everyone's avoiding the O'Malley's mistress," Addison said as she rolled her eyes. "You should've seen the Chief."

"You told him already?" Callie enquired.

"Not long ago. He assumed I was talking about George instead of Izzie and gave me a proper dressing down for breaking up a marriage," Addison smiled. "Public defender of love and matrimony. When we realised what had happened, it was funny."

"I bet. So how long you been together?" Callie asked, interested though not at all fazed.

"Only a week. But you know the rumour mill around here. Just wanted to get things straightened with Richard," Addison nodded.

"Must be pretty serious, huh?" Callie said, leaning back and folding her hands over her chest.

"Think it might be," Addison said hopefully.

"I can't pretend to be Izzie's best friend but I hope it works out," Callie said sincerely. George looked incredulously between the two women having a casual conversation.

"Seriously?" he interrupted. "You're not the least bit freaked out?" He glanced at Addison and mumbled, "No offence, Dr Montgomery."

"Freaked out?" Callie repeated, confused as she stood up and brushed herself down. "Why would I be freaked out?" She took a moment to consider this. "Oh, right. George, don't be so nineteenth century. Sometimes I forget there's so much you don't know about me." At this, she winked at Addison and headed for the door. "Don't tell me you've never hopped the fence in your time. What else did you not do in college?"

"Hopped the fence? Why would I hop a fence? What fence?" George babbled. His eyes went wide. "Izzie was right. You _do_ get freaky."

Callie grinned at him and turned to Addison. "I'll start putting all the sympathetic morons right about your love affair with my husband."

"Appreciated," Addison nodded smiling as Callie closed the door. She turned to George, whose mouth was agape.

"My wife likes girls," he said simply. A small noise, much akin to a puppy's whine, escaped his throat.

"Think yourself lucky, O'Malley," Addison told him as she crossed to exit. "A lot of men would kill to be in your position."

--

"Hey! Hey Dr Montgomery, wait up!"

Addison paused to wait as Karev caught up with her and then continued to walk as he followed.

"Am I scrubbing in on the premy?" he asked quickly.

"Why would you be? You've not been on the case, you're assigned to another Attending. There's no need for me to ask for your services in the OR, Dr Karev. I think I'll manage fine without you," Addison drawled, stopping at the elevator.

"But O'Malley's scrubbing in, right?"

"Yes. Because Dr O'Malley's assigned to my service this week," Addison told him as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"I'll bet he is," Karev muttered, turning to walk away.

"Excuse me?" Addison said, her eyebrows raised.

"We all know about you and Bambi," Karev said sharply. "You might have at least told me instead of avoiding me all week."

"Why would I confide anything in you, Karev?" Addison asked, stepping into the elevator. Alex jumped in with her to continue the conversation in a more secluded place.

"Because there's stuff going on. With us. You kissed me," Alex told her, his hands on his hips.

"Yes Karev, a while ago if I recall. Put it down to a poor lapse in judgement," Addison said, watching the lights illuminate the floor numbers.

"What gives? Why you off with George?"

"Nothing 'gives' Karev. And to enlighten you - I'm not with O'Malley," Addison informed him.

"That's what everyone's saying," he shrugged. The elevator doors opened.

"Well everyone is wrong," she threw over her shoulder as she walked away.

--

"Olivia, I'd like you to check on Mr and Mrs Henderson before you go home tonight, if that's all right," Addison said, scribbling her final notes on the chart and handing it back to the nurse. "I think she's a prime candidate for post partdem depression and I want you to keep an eye on her."

Olivia took the chart and muttered something under her breath as soon as her back was turned. Addison paused.

"I'm sorry, what did you say, Olivia?" Addison asked, blinking.

Olivia turned back round, looking at the ground.

"She said adulterous whore," a voice from behind the desk said.

"Excuse me?" Addison called out, not believing her ears. Nurse Jackman stood up, folding her arms and looking angrier by the second.

"She said: Adulterous. Whore," Stephanie Jackman repeated, coming round the desk to stand face to face.

"I think you'd better—" Addison started, clearly flustered.

"It's what we're all thinking," another nurse spoke up. "If you're going to discipline her, then discipline all of us."

"Still won't make it any less true," Jackman told her.

"I think—I think you better take a step back," Addison told them, holding a hand out, her nervousness evident into her voice.

"We all like George. And we don't think it's fair the way you're taking advantage of him," Olivia said, looking up.

"It's actually a funny story, when you hear it," Addison trailed off, looking at all of them.

"Well we don't think it's that funny," another nurse added.

Izzie Stevens was returning some paperwork to the station when she saw four nurses rounding on Addison like hungry wolves.

"What's going on?" she asked, stepping in between Addison and the others.

"Izzie. We're telling Dr Montgomery here what we think about her messing George around," Olivia said, sure that they were getting Izzie's additional support for their cause. "We think it's wrong and she should be sacked."

"Sacked?" Izzie echoed.

"It's not right," Nurse Jackman nodded. "And until she's gone, we're going to make her life Hell."

"Too right!" a nurse concurred.

"Hey, hey!" Izzie shouted, putting her hands up. "Why don't you all back the frickin' Hell off?"

"Izzie you're George's best friend – Why aren't you standing up for him?" Olivia asked accusingly.

"Because there's nothing to stand up for," Izzie spat. "You all like to gossip and talk about other people's lives regardless of whether it's true or not."

"Izzie," Addison whispered urgently at her back. But Izzie just put her hand behind her to grab hold of Addison's, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"It is true, I was the one who heard it," Olivia said defensively.

"And what did you hear, Olivia?" Izzie asked, her eyes blazing. "Two people arguing so you drew your own conclusions? George and Dr Montgomery aren't having an affair."

"She's just defending her because Montgomery's her boss. She doesn't care about her friend – she just wants more surgeries," Jackman told them all.

"Surgical interns," one nurse spat. "You'd stab your own mother in the back if it meant you got to hold a scalpel."

"George isn't… Addison… I…" Izzie trailed off, as the small baying mob were accusing her of all manner of crimes. She turned to Addison who tried to smile at her but failed miserably. Izzie was resolute. There was only one thing to be done.

"Hey!" she yelled over the escalating voices, calling their attention. With them all looking at her, Izzie grabbed the back of Addison's head and kissed her passionately. Addison was shocked at first, but saw where she was going with this. To be painfully honest, Addison didn't care. She just let herself enjoy being kissed by Izzie, sliding a hand into her blonde hair.

The rest were quiet. Izzie wasn't sure if it was because when she kissed Addison the rest of the world could turn upside down for all she knew or because they had actually stopped. Izzie pulled away from Addison and spun round.

"OK," she said breathlessly. "Anymore questions? Comments?" No one responded. "Good. OK. For all of you just tuning in – George O'Malley is _not_ with Addison Montgomery. _I_ am. So. You can all apologise to her. And then we're going home."

The nurses, once they had regained control of their vocal chords, all looked away and muttered an embarrassed apology to Addison before dispersing to the four corners of the hospital. Izzie looked round at Addison, grinning.

"Izzie," Addison started softly.

"Shut up," Izzie laughed, rolling her eyes. "I know. I'm you're knight in shining whatever."

"Sure," Addison smirked, caressing Izzie's face. "You fancy a drink?"

"I fancy a _lot_ more but that's a good place to start," Izzie grinned wickedly. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Addison nodded graciously, taking Izzie's hand.


	3. Dinner With the Shepherds: III

From behind her paper, Addison noticed Derek's head bobbing past, going to the crockery cabinet.

"Good morning, Addy," Derek greeted cheerily, taking the box of muesli over to the table with a bowl. He grinned at her, taking the milk and making up his breakfast. "Fancy meeting you here."

Addison put down her paper, trying hard to appear annoyed and sighed. "Are we going to do this every morning we're both here, Derek?"

"Do what?" he asked innocently, still grinning widely. "I don't know what we're doing? Are we supposed to be doing something?"

"No, Derek," Addison told him in a bored tone, lifting her paper back up to cover his face.

"Have a good night?" he asked, mid-crunch of his cereal.

"Derek," she said warningly. "That's what you do. I thought the novelty would have worn off by now."

"We're not like other divorced couples, are we?" he laughed, eating a spoonful.

"No," she half smiled.

Derek ate in silence, trying to read from the back of the newspaper Addison held up, before she put it down and mock glared at him.

"My sisters are coming to town," he announced, getting up to deposit his bowl in the sink. "You want to come out to dinner with us? I'll take Meredith, you bring Izzie. It'll be like a double date. Two sisters, two of you, two of us. I would say treble date but that's just inappropriate."

"Which ones?" Addison asked, not looking over the top of the world news section.

"You're just gonna walk right by that double date comment?" he asked, amused.

"Which ones?" she repeated, ignoring his bait.

"Your answer's dependant on which sisters? The other two will be hurt," Derek said, shaking his head.

"Who, Derek?" Addison asked firmly, a smile creeping on her lips. This was their morning routine. Slowly and surely they had managed to build a camaraderie which resulted in this back and forth each time they came to breakfast in the Grey house. Addison wouldn't lie and say it wasn't nice to have Derek back in her life like this. Since the divorce, they had always seen each other at the hospital but working in such an environment didn't usually leave time for such playful banter which now led to their friendship.

"Kathleen and Elizabeth," Derek responded, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

"God, I've not seen them for ages," Addison said softly.

"Elizabeth misses you. She told me so," Derek informed her, adopting a more serious tone. "She'll have to get out her voodoo doll if you blow her off when she's in town."

"Voodoo? So just cause she's not a med grad like the rest of the clan, she's now a witch doctor?"

"If the pointy cap and bone waving fits," Derek shrugged. "So should I let them down easy?"

No, no," Addison shook her head, folding up her glasses in her right hand. "I'll be there."

"Great," Derek smiled, taking the sports section from the pile on the table and sitting down. "You know, we should really start car-pooling to the hospital; Environment, global warming, the unintentional, inconvenient truths or whatever. Unless you take a 'different route' from us. Then that would be… Awkward."

"Shut up, Derek" Addison murmured, blushing from behind her paper.

--

"Hey suck ups! Suck ups, you know you better follow me before I ask you again!" Bailey commanded, to three of her interns, still engrossed in their respective Attending bedfellows. "Just leave your McDreamys and your McSteamys and your McHotties and your… your… Who are you?" she asked Burke.

"I'm Preston Burke," he replied, genuinely confused.

"What? No McNickname? That sucks, even I get to be the Nazi," Miranda said, shaking her head. "All right, follow - _follow_ - or no one's gonna even remember what a scalpel looks like when I put you all on scut for a month."

"I better go," Izzie said quickly, kissing Addison's proffered cheek. "I'll see you later?"

Addison nodded her head, giving Izzie what she felt was a forced smile. Izzie tilted her head at her girlfriend, silently asking her _What was that about?_

Before she had gotten any response, Bailey had called her to heel. Izzie had no choice but to follow.

--

"So Dr Stevens," Derek started, taking a pen out of his pocket. "What did you get Addison for her birthday?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Izzie said, feeling her heart stop.

"Addy's birthday, it's today," Derek said carefully. "She didn't tell you?"

"Do I look as if she told me?" Izzie snapped, panicking. She held her forehead, racking her brains to any mention Addison had made about her birthday, or any special reference to the day.

"Oh. Well, should have guessed. Addy's… _funny _about her birthday," Derek said, scratching his chin with his pen.

"Oh," Izzie said faintly, feeling herself flush. She couldn't believe that she didn't know the most basic information about the woman she'd been sleeping with for four months.

"She wants you to remember, but she doesn't want it mentioned," Derek explained, scribbling away on his chart. "She doesn't like a fuss, but she does like to feel a bit special "for no reason at all", if you get my drift. You know, like you just woke up that morning and decided to do something nice for her. But never, under no circumstances say it's because it's her birthday and for Gods sake, don't mention her age. She hasn't celebrated her birthday properly since she was twenty-five."

"This Addison you're talking about?" Sloan interrupted, leaning over the desk and studying a red faced and increasingly anxious looking Izzie.

"Yeah," Derek nodded.

"Yeah, twenty-five was the last one," Sloan concurred. "I guess she thought that if she never brought up her age for every year after that, the whole concept of time and aging would just die."

"Remember when her scrub nurse Jeffrey gave her a card for her birthday which explicitly said _Happy 30__th__ Birthday_ on it?" Derek sighed, snapping his chart shut.

"Yeah, that poor bastard," Mark reminisced.

"What did she do?" Izzie asked, feeling more and more mortified by the minute.

"First, she gave him the whole personal and professional relationships lecture," Derek remembered slowly. "Very loudly, in the middle of surgery, wrist deep in a uterus, with a bunch of interns watching from the gallery.

"Then spouted off some crap about it being unhygienic to bring the card into the OR," Mark cut in.

"It was even worse because it was her twenty-ninth birthday. Jeffrey wasn't trying to be funny-he just genuinely got it wrong," Derek shook his head.

"Then she went up and cried in a linen cupboard for an hour," Mark told Izzie. Derek turned to Mark, surprised.

"She did that?"

Sloan nodded, looking at both of them and taking his leave.

"That's why you never, ever mention her birthday," Derek concluded, half smiling at Izzie and heading towards the OR.

"Oh God," Izzie swallowed.

--

"What's up with Izzie?" Cristina asked, chasing her potatoes around her plate and spearing them fiercely.

Izzie sat, head on her hand, and drifted off. She heard her name mentioned, but couldn't be bothered explaining herself at this moment.

"I've always meant to ask, what's the sex like?" Cristina asked bluntly. George kicked her hard on the shins and then looked away. "What? Like you all aren't dying to know. I'm only asking."

"Fine," Izzie responded, clearly not in any frame of mind to have a conversation, much less one about her sex life.

"Can't be just fine," Cristina huffed, tearing a piece off Meredith's sandwich. "It was something I always meant to do, but never got round to it. You're not exactly giving me any incentive if it's just 'fine'."

"Fine," Izzie mumbled, sinking deeper inside her own thoughts.

"I mean, in college there was this girl. This gay girl. Who totally wanted me. Real vixen. She tore anyone apart if she felt like it. She pretty much promised to go down on me if I went to this mixer. But I hate mixers. And I had a final next day. She assumed I rejected her and moved on to the next girl. Sometimes I wonder about the oral-sex-that-could've-been," Cristina finished almost dreamily.

"Too-Much!" George coughed loudly.

"Trust me—It's above satisfactory," Meredith groaned. "Because no one makes that much noise if it's just fine."

"Are you and Derek just jealous then?" Cristina chuckled. "Lacking in that department?"

"I agree," George said, his mouth full. He coughed and double backed on himself. "With the noise thing. Not the sex department. I agree with the noise. That _they_ make. I don't know about the noise that Meredith… _Or_ Izzie… Because I don't listen to her—Either of them. I don't listen to any of them. The house is silent. A graveyard. You know what? I'm just going to be quiet."

"What are you talking about? You're always at the hotel, making some noise thing in the sex department with the little woman," Cristina scoffed.

"Well how do you know? You don't live with us," George defended. Cristina nodded towards Meredith and shrugged. "Oh. There was that time I walked in on them…"

Cristina, George and Meredith conducted the conversation about Addison and Izzie's sex life as if she wasn't even at the table. Which, mentally, she wasn't. Izzie was scrambling to think what she could do for Addison for her birthday. Something she would love but under the radar. The more Izzie thought, the more she came up with superficial ideas and the more she got angry. If she'd had more time to plan, more time to organise something… But she couldn't of. If it wasn't for Derek, then she wouldn't have known at all. Addison's first birthday with her and it would have gone completely unnoticed.

Birthdays were special to Izzie. Growing up, it was always something she and her mother could do together. It didn't matter if they didn't have the money to waste, they would just take a drive or a picnic and spend some time together. Izzie wondered what Addison's birthdays had been like as a kid. Was that the reason or was it simply because she was anxious of growing older?

The more she thought about this, the more she got angry at Addison for shutting her out. Yes, of course everyone had their neurosis but it wasn't just this birthday saga that was wearing Izzie down. They were as physically close as they could be. Never before had she felt so charged, yet comfortable with another human being. But there was something that Addison wasn't letting her in on. Like this great secret.

The more Izzie subtly pushed, the less Addison would give. In this moment, Izzie realised that she knew nothing of Addison's childhood, or family or parents. They'd talked about med school, perhaps some funny college stories, but nothing really from any further back. They'd talked briefly about ex's, scarcely touched on Derek—Izzie wasn't even sure if she was the first woman Addison had been with.

"OK, I'm going in," she heard Meredith say, although it sounded like it was from a distance away. "Izzie? Izzie."

"What?" she snapped. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. "Sorry. What?"

"Are you OK? Is there anything we can do?" Meredith asked gently.

"Is your hot piece of ass girlfriend giving you a hard time for leaving the toilet seat up?" Cristina asked, mouth full.

Izzie couldn't help but smile. George hit Cristina in the shoulder. "What? I was being supportive. I agreed to be supportive. And here I am, giving support."

"Yes. That was very supportive, thanks," Izzie rolled her eyes. "And yes, it is her. No to the toilet thing though," she added, wrinkling her nose.

"That's what girlfriends usually get pissed off about. Anniversary?" Cristina guessed.

"Birthday, actually," Izzie sighed, pushing her tray away and laying her head down on the table.

"You forgot her birthday? You are the worst girlfriend ever. I'm never going out with you," Cristina snorted, wolfing down Izzie's rejected fries.

"I didn't forget! How could I forget if I didn't know to remember to forget!" Izzie defended.

"When is it?" Meredith asked, picking through Izzie's fries.

"Today. Addison's birthday is today," Izzie told them, chewing her lip. She leaned back in her chair, cautiously scanning the cafeteria area to see if Addison was nearby or in earshot. "Derek just told me. She never did. And apparently she doesn't like to celebrate them, but do something special anyway."

"Women are complicated," Cristina shrugged. George concurred silently as he nodded along. "Bitches," she added with a helpful dose of venom.

"I'm gonna go try figure this out somewhere," Izzie excused herself wearily, pushing back her chair. Concerned, her friends watched her leave, and Meredith stood up to follow.

--

Meredith lost sight of Izzie but found her five minutes later sitting by herself out the front of the hospital, perched on a wall.

"Izzie," Meredith said softly, sitting beside Izzie. "Are you OK?"

"Not really," Izzie said, forcing a sad smile.

"Addison?"

"It's just… There's Shepherd and Sloan—Her 'grown up' friends. Friends from New York. Who know her, and what she likes and when her frickin' birthday is," Izzie bemoaned. "They're over there. And me over here, on a wall. Outside of everything."

"You are talking about her ex husband and the dirty mistress who broke up their marriage. That's who you're jealous of," Meredith told her.

"Yeah, I know it sounds ridiculous to you. It's just difficult," Izzie sighed, kicking the ground. "She's a very hard person to get to know."

"I don't think she means it that way," Meredith said thoughtfully. "She's not long out an eleven year marriage. There's bound to be baggage. And scars. And walls. Derek was like that at first. He still is, sometimes. It's hard to get that wall down."

"Did you?"

"Part of it. But that's a good thing. There's so much more I have to know about him," Meredith smiled.

"I'm not sure I'll ever get there with Addison," Izzie said, clearing her throat. "I just don't really know what else to do. We're supposed to be at this point now, the good point. When we really get to know each other and share… things and all that crap."

"You will. Give it time."

Izzie nodded slowly, staring up at the clear blue sky. "It's pathetic. I'm falling—hard—for this person I hardly know. This woman who hardly wants me to know her."

"That's not true. Give it time," Meredith urged her friend. Izzie discreetly wiped the corner of her eye and sniffed.

"She's not cold," Izzie shook her head. "She could never be cold. She just pulls away… I'm love with a woman who is so emotionally unavailable," Izzie said softly, her lower lip trembling. She let out a sore laugh and dried her silently dripping tears. "It's not gonna work."

"Izzie," Meredith soothed, reaching out to embrace her friend. Instead, Izzie leapt off the wall and ran away. "Izzie!"

--

Meredith walked quickly down the corridors, looking left and right into rooms. The very person she needed to talk to almost passed her by before she spun round and grabbed her arm.

"Dr Grey!" Addison protested, feeling Meredith grip her tightly and pull her into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind them.

"Dr. Montgomery, Addison," Meredith started. "You need to do something."

"Apart from escaping your evil clutches, Dr Grey, what else do I need to do?" Addison drawled, folding up her glasses and putting them away.

"Izzie."

Addison paused, waiting for Meredith to say something more. "What about Izzie?"

"She's freaking out," Meredith said simply.

"Freaking out about what?" Addison ventured.

"About you and her. She thinks you're emotionally unavailable."

Addison smiled nervously and made her way to the door. "This is not a conversation I want to have with you, Meredith."

Meredith shot to the door, putting her hand against it so Addison couldn't leave. "Is it a conversation you want to have with Izzie?"

Addison stopped dead, looking to the ground.

"Because if it is, you need to have it with her. And soon. Before she loses faith that it's ever going to work with you two," Meredith urged.

Addison breathed deeply, and leaned against the bed for support.

"I don't want to ask you if you love her, because it's Izzie that should hear that for the first time, not me," Meredith rushed on. "But if you do, then you have to do something. Or you will lose her."

"What has she said to you?" Addison asked quietly.

--

"I need to talk to you," Addison murmured in Izzie's ear.

"What about, because I don't really have time," Izzie muttered, not taking her eyes off the chart she was reading.

"Izzie…"

"Dr Montgomery, I don't have time," Izzie repeated in a harsh tone, walking away. She spun on her heel and continued backwards in her direction. "Oh. And Happy _freaking_ Birthday."

--

Addison found Izzie a few hours later lying in a bed on the On-Call room. Quietly, Addison stepped inside and locked the door behind her. The click of the lock made Izzie sit up and face the intruder.

"What do you want? Is it time for the cake?" Izzie muttered sinking back down. Addison sighed. Jamming her hands in the pockets of her lab coat and sat on the bed next to Izzie.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hesitantly reaching out to thread her fingers through Izzie's hair.

"Yeah, me too," Izzie replied bitterly.

"Izzie, I mean it, I really am sorry," Addison said firmly, feeling her girlfriends skin, stroking her cheek.

"Where are you, Addison?" Izzie asked, leaning up on her elbows.

"Here."

"No. Where? I don't believe you, because sometimes you seem so far away. And I can't figure out if it's something I've done. Or maybe it is just me that you don't want to be with and we're just killing time until Derek or Mark whisks you back away to New York—"

Addison covered Izzie's mouth her with hand. She stared at her, making sure Izzie knew she had her full attention.

"I am no where but here. Believe me. Nor do I want to be. Even though we're going to have this awful, broken conversation about the past and damage, I do not want to be anywhere but here. Not in New York. Not with Derek or Mark or anyone else alive. OK?"

Izzie nodded, reaching up to take Addison's hand from her face.

"Forgetting the birthday thing for a moment, can you give me an explanation about why you've been so distant lately? Is it me?" Izzie asked, biting the inside of her cheek.

Addison nodded slowly. "Yes. It is you."

"Oh God." Izzie's face crumpled. Addison took hold of her chin to tilt her face up.

"It is you. And me. And us. I wasn't prepared for you," Addison shook her head slowly. "You – I absolutely was not prepared for."

"What do you mean—"

"It's not like I had to discover who I was without Derek," Addison blurted out, trying to remember the carefully written explanation in the script in her head. "Because honestly, we were never the kind of couple that was this one whole entity. We had a lot together, but we were very separate people. Always Addison and Derek. And right now, I _know_ you and I are becoming us. I've never really been an 'us', not really. I do feel that, and I do want that," she emphasised, pausing. "But it's scaring me. And I'm not prepared. I don't know if I could survive if there's an 'us' and then… not an 'us' anymore. Is any of this making sense?"

"A bit," Izzie said shortly, biting her lip.

"Losing Derek didn't kill me because I didn't allow myself to… You make me crazy. And you make me lose control. And I hate that and I love that, but it's getting to that scary stage where I don't think I'll be able to manage without that," Addison swallowed, looking down and clasping her hands. "Can you understand why I'm so terrified?"

"Course I understand," Izzie said obviously. "Don't you think I'm scared too? I am so scared you'll decide this was all a mistake tomorrow. And I don't know if I'm being stupid or not because there's still a huge part of you that I don't know. Because _you won't let me_."

"I know," Addison started, guiltily. "I know that."

"So what are we supposed to do about that?"

"Well. What do you want to know?"

"Addison…" Izzie said, exasperated, knotting her eyebrows. She flopped back on the mattress.

"I'm serious. What do you want to know?" Addison asked, staring intently. "I'm offering anything."

Izzie raised her eyes, her look speaking for itself. Addison nodded slowly, looking down.

"You want to know why I never celebrate my birthday."

Izzie looked slightly guilty.

"My 26th birthday. I was an intern, in New York. I was in the pit. I was only on until 3. Had the half day. Derek was taking me out later," Addison recounted carefully. "And my best friend from high school, who I hadn't seen in 8 years came in an ambulance. Car accident."

"I'm sorr—" Izzie started.

"We weren't friends anymore. Usual stupid teenage crap although I'd be lying if I said I didn't remember," she laughed softly. "She wasn't critical, superficial wounds mostly, so I asked to be taken off the case. My resident refused. So I decided to be the utmost professional, barely gave her time to say anything to me. I didn't want to hear anything she had to say."

"What happened?" Izzie asked gently.

"I was so busy being 'professional' and concentrating on avoiding her. We were swamped. As we usually were. CT and MRI were backed up. She was fine. She seemed fine. She was up out of bed, wandering around, talking to everyone as she used to do. Kept trying to find me and there I am hiding in toilet cubicles and store rooms instead of making sure she got a scan to find the bleed in her brain," Addison let out sorely.

"She coded in the MRI and rushed to surgery but it was too much. She didn't wake up, and then she died during the night," Addison finished, clearing her throat. "I wasn't there. I left. Stood Derek up to go sit on a wall and drink a bottle of cheap wine."

"Addison," Izzie whispered.

"Last thing she said to me as I took her to the MRI was that she always remembered my birthday. Every year since school. I always remembered hers. We used to do the stupidest things."

"What happened in school?" Izzie asked gently.

"We were inseparable. In love," Addison swallowed. With a pang, Izzie realised that she hadn't told this story to anyone else before. "I was in love, actually… Homecoming in senior year, a jock she'd been tutoring asked her to the dance. She went with him, she found new friends in the 'popular crowd' and she left me behind. We used to pride ourselves on not being popular. Being the misfits. Cool in our own way. I tried to talk to her. There were rumours all round school about me. I knew they came from her. We never spoke again. And that was it. Like I said. Stupid teenage crap."

Izzie eased her hand into Addison's, entwining their fingers.

"So that's why. On the day I was responsible for her death, I don't really want to celebrate my birthday," Addison breathed out, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say," Izzie said softly.

"I had a tree house that I slept in every night when I was seven," Addison told her. "Until it was too cold. I used to keep track of all the weekends my dad spent in the Hamptons with his assistant instead of being with me and my mom. I wrote them in permanent marker on the leather interior of one of his cars. Took him nearly a year to realise as he only kept that one for special occasions. I don't get along with my parents. To them, the most important thing in life for me was to get married. By proxy, the worst I could do was divorce, so I hated them for that," Addison rhymed off facts, trying to build her resolve she did so. "And the last thing I want to do is push you away or lose you."

"Don't worry about that," Izzie shook her head.

Addison let out a sigh of relief, feeling the tightness in her chest unravel. Her eyes dampened and she felt Izzie pull her down to lie beside her. Izzie kissed her gently, wrapping both arms around her. Addison tried to relax but as she did, a sob rose in her throat. Choking it back, she pressing herself into Izzie's neck and clung onto her own fragile, pretty little intern.

--

After an hour, Izzie stirred from her nap, and was comforted to find Addison still pressed as tightly to her body as when she fell asleep. Izzie kissed her head and watched her breathing.

She knew that Bailey would be looking for her. She knew she was supposed to be down in the clinic helping out by now. But the last thing she wanted to do was sneak out and leave Addison to wake up alone.

Addison's hold on her tightened for a moment as Addison's eyes flickered open. Izzie kissed her nose and murmured soothing words into her red hair while stroking her back.

"Welcome back to the world," Izzie whispered, kissing Addison's lips. As Addison realised where they were and when.

"Oh God, how long were we sleeping?" Addison asked, yawning lightly.

"About an hour or so, don't worry, I'm sure no one died."

"Sure," Addison sighed, closing her eyes again.

"Since I had no warning, no shopping time, your gift is pretty last minute," Izzie told her, stroking her cheek. "It's not wrapped either."

"You shouldn't have gotten me a present," Addison told her.

"Tough. And you better like it," Izzie warned, kissing her.

"Was that it? Because I like it," Addison smiled, opening her eyes again to see Izzie had slid on top her. In the darkness of the windowless On-Call room, Izzie's weight on her, Izzie's hair curling down in cascades of blonde locks, Addison was completely satisfied with the Gods of Fate for the moment.

"No, smartass," Izzie smiled nervously. "I love you. I'm in love with you."

It took a second to register in her sleepy brain, but after then Addison Montgomery broke out in a huge grin.

"I love it," Addison whispered, reaching up for kiss. "And I love you."

Izzie grinned so much she was finding it difficult to kiss Addison properly. Pulling back, Izzie tried to stifle the rising bubble of happiness.

"But you're not gonna love me after I tell you something," Addison said seriously, caressing Izzie's face.

"What?"

"I told Derek that me and you would have dinner with his sisters," Addison said biting her lip.

"His sisters?"

"And Meredith. Meredith will be there too," Addison repeated.

"Well this won't be hideously awkward," Izzie said half-laughing and kissing Addison once more before they both had to leave the safe haven of the On-Call room and return to the world.

--

"I know they're your friends and everything," Izzie said to her girlfriend as they stepped out of the taxi in front of the bar they were meeting at. "And it's not like I don't want to meet your friends. But Derek's sisters. Your ex-husbands sisters. If this is going to be ridiculously hideous I could arrange for George to page me away and pretend like it's the hospital."

"It'll be fine," Addison soothed, taking her hand. "My ex-husband will be there with his new girlfriend, your roommate. And his sisters are lovely. Well Lizzie is. Kathleen can be a bit difficult but she's not a bad person. It'll be fine."

Addison held the door open for Izzie and urged her through. They scanned the bar for the four they were meeting to find they were the first ones there.

"I need a big drink," Izzie decided, as they headed to the bar. As Izzie ordered for the both of them, Derek and Meredith entered, spotting them quickly.

"Kathleen and Elizabeth not here yet?" Derek asked as they approached. Izzie shook her head as she tipped the bottle of beer almost vertically down, nearly shotgunning it. Addison grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm freaking out too," Meredith told Izzie in a low voice.

Izzie stopped pouring alcohol directly into her gullet and coughed. "I'm not freaking out."

"Yes you are," Addison told her.

"Don't freak out," Derek chipped in. "They're fine. They'll love you. I just thought that if my sisters were in town, they'd want to see Addy. And I'd want them to meet Meredith and that might be a little weird. Ergo, you."

"Great," Izzie squeaked. "Stop-gap Me. Human embodiment of all that is awkward."

"It'll be fine," Derek said before turning to the entrance to see two of his sisters walk in. He went forward to greet them before bringing them to the bar.

Addison embraced both Kathleen and Elizabeth before Derek turning to introduce them to the girlfriends.

"Kathleen, Lizzie, this is Meredith," Derek said as Meredith smiled nervously at the pair, not sure if she too should hug the sisters. Too soon for encroachment on personal space, Meredith decided. She considered a handshake momentarily before realising that it would just be stupid. So she left it at a polite nod.

"And this is Izzie Stevens, Addison's girlfriend," Derek gestured. Izzie felt like she had something on her face as the sisters stared at her. Finally, Elizabeth broke out into a warm smile.

"So. Drinks?" Addison offered.

--

"By the way," Izzie whispered into Addison's ear and she picked up her coat to go to the restaurant. "Is it just me or is there… Did Elizabeth… You…"

"Ages ago," Addison murmured. "When I was in med school with Derek, before we got together. It was nothing."

"Seriously? Does he know?" she hissed back. Addison half smiled and raised her eyebrow. "Seriously."

"Yes, seriously, I was young once too, Dr Stevens," Addison said in a low voice to Izzie's ear.

--

"So, Addison, it's great that you and Derek are still friends," Kathleen said icily, twirling her spaghetti.

"It took time," Addison replied, slightly amused. She knew how Kathleen could be.

"But we got there," Derek nodded.

"How else are they supposed to be, Kathleen?" Elizabeth asked, a malevolent glint in her eyes. "Tearing each others throats out like you and Robert?"

Kathleen cleared her throat, taking a sip of wine and looking away from her sister.

"You and Robert having problems?" Derek asked, concerned.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask for your marriage counsellor, Derek. Whatever you paid them, I'm sure you got ripped off."

Izzie's eyes started to tear as she tried to stifle her laughter. She felt a swift kick on her ankles, most likely directly from Meredith. She looked up at her friend, noticing her grave _This is not funny! Seriously!_ Look. Which just made Izzie all the more desperate to laugh. Instead, she chugged down an entire glass of water, hoping not to be noticed.

"Kathleen," Derek shook his head.

"Does it make you uncomfortable to talk about your divorce in front of your girlfriend and your ex-wife's girlfriend?" Kathleen enquired, clearly slipping into analysis mode.

"You say that like they're one person. They're clearly not one person. Because that would be a problem for you to solve, Kathleen. Divorced couple dating the same women. A bit insane. But they're not. Here's Meredith with me, and there's Izzie with Addison. So stop trying to make a big deal," Derek told her firmly, unfazed by his sisters constant questioning. "And eat your pasta."

Kathleen looked at him sullenly, annoyed that her brother could call her out on her interference, get away with it and make her feel like she was ten years old again.

"So, Meredith," Elizabeth said brightly. "I hear your mother is Ellis Grey."

"Yes, she is," Meredith said slowly, not sure where this was going.

"That's a name I heard often enough when these two were in med school," she laughed, raising her glass. "She was their idol."

"She wasn't," Derek said quickly. "I just admired her."

"Derek, she was the foremost, ground breaking surgeon of that time – Of course we idolised her," Addison half scolded.

"Sorry," Derek shrugged apologetically.

"It's OK," Meredith smiled, tilting her head. "Why would I be offended at you idolising my mother?"

"Because it's a little creepy," Izzie contributed. "Of course, I idolised her as well. I saw a tape of her laparoscopic Grey Method in med school for the first time and I was in love. With the surgery, not your mother."

"Thanks, Izzie," Meredith said quickly, feeling herself blush.

--

Addison washed her hands in the sunk and stared into the mirror. It had been intense but Izzie just seemed to shrug it all off. She could understand how Kathleen must be feeling. The truth is, they never got on as well as Addison had with Nancy, Anna or Elizabeth.

"Izzie's lovely," Elizabeth announced, emerging from a stall. Addison jumped visibly.

"I didn't know you were in there."

"She's fun and witty and intelligent," Elizabeth complimented further, stooping to wash her hands. She looked at Addison's reflection in the mirror. "And she's beautiful… She looks familiar."

"_Bethany Whisper_," Addison, half smiled. She took a paper towel gingerly and dried her hands.

"Sorry?"

"She did a few shoots for _Bethany Whisper_ in med school."

"She's a model?" Elizabeth half-laughed. "I never pegged you much for a model."

"She's a surgeon, Lizzie," Addison said firmly.

"Exactly your type," Elizabeth responded with a smile. "Surgeons. If I remember. No point straying outside the box."

"I think I've strayed plenty outside the box in my time," Addison snorted.

"Like flouncy, scattered but oh so charming Art school types?" Elizabeth remarked. She slipped her fingers inside the waistband of Addison's trousers and pulled her forward sharply. This was part of the reason Addison had found Elizabeth so addictive in her formative years – The ability Lizzie had to do the unexpected. It was a trait which largely set her apart from the other Shepherds. Now, however, it was just unnerving as it caught her completely off guard.

"Lizzie," Addison sighed, shaking her head and extricating herself. "I'm happy."

"I'm happy too," Elizabeth said, bemused and coming closer to Addison, pinning her in, against the sink with her arms. "So?"

"So this is not going to be one of those things," Addison said cautiously. "It's been fifteen years."

"We always said when if it was ever game over between you and Derek—" Elizabeth started, coyly, leaning forward to kiss Addison.

"No. You always said," Addison told her sharply, holding her off.

"I say, you say, doesn't really matter. Especially now you've dealt with some issues that held us back before," Elizabeth breathed, sliding a hand into Addison's hair. Elizabeth nuzzled Addison's neck, her hands travelling down. She leant up to try and kiss her again.

Jolted, Addison pushed Elizabeth backwards and sent her reeling. "I'm in love with Izzie," Addison said angrily. "Don't try and do that again."

"C'mon, Addison," Elizabeth laughed, completely unfazed.

"Elizabeth, don't," Addison said warningly, holding a hand up. She turned on her heel and walked out of the bathroom.

--

Addison Montgomery was sliding into a deep sleep when her door frame rattled with hard, repeated knocks. She was sure she had gotten Izzie a key card for the room so she could come and go. She must have lost it. Willing herself up, Addison pushed off the bed and sleepily opened the door.

"Elizabeth," Addison greeted wearily.

"Hiding your joy at seeing me, Addy?" Elizabeth joked, inviting herself inside Addy's suite.

"Deep, deep inside," Addison drawled, folding her dressing gown over tightly. "It's late, Izzie's coming back from a shift any minute, what do you want?"

"Three guesses." Elizabeth pulled Addison forward by the hanging tiers of her robe and moved to kiss her. Before their lips touched, Addison pushed her back roughly, waking up fully.

"Look. I'm not being that adulterous bitch again," Addison warned, careful to keep a clear distance from Lizzie. "You're going home tomorrow. And you'll go back to New York. And I'll be here with Izzie. And everything will be exactly the way I want it."

"You know, I'm sifting through offers at the moment," Lizzie said breezily sitting down on the bed and leaning back. "A few from LA. One in upstate New York. Another in Chicago. And one here. In Seattle. That is why I'm here. Not just to jump you, Addy."

"What?"

"The Soil Art Gallery. Very very exciting. I'm excited, Addison," Elizabeth told her. "It may just be my best offer."

"You have got to be kidding me," Addison said seriously. "Get out."

"What?" Lizzie asked, startled.

"You heard me. Get out. Mark coming here was one thing. You staying is just.._ unacceptable_. Woman-Whore. Get out," Addison yelled, opening her door.

"Addy, why you getting so wound up?" Lizzie half-laughed, sliding off the bed and standing in front of Addison. "If I don't want me, and you really are in love with that model, then why are you shaking?"

"Get. Out," Addison repeated, backing away.

"That's right, Addy, keep safely away," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. They locked eyes in an angry stare and didn't hear footsteps approach the open door.

"What's going on?" Izzie asked, leaning against the doorframe. Addison snapped her glare from Elizabeth

"Well I was about to try and kiss Addison before you arrived," Elizabeth groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Apart from that, we were just catching up like old friends."

"God, I knew it," Izzie muttered. "I'm too tired for this crap."

"Seems our Addison has a dilemma," Elizabeth acknowledged.

"God. 'Lizzie' and 'Izzie' fight it out for the same woman. That's a badly written sit-com if I've ever seen one. Or maybe a really good one," Izzie added thoughtfully. "But there's not going to be any fighting. Not right now anyway.

"Really," Lizzie laughed.

"Seriously," Izzie snapped, un-amused. "Until Addison breaks up with me, then I don't want to find you anywhere near her pulling this crap. On the other hand, if she is interested then I can't do anything about it. Addison?"

"What?" Addison said, startled.

"Do you want to leave me for Derek's sister?"

"No, Izzie, no," she replied softly. "Most definitely don't."

"Hear that Shepherd? Now pack your bags, say goodbye to your brother and leave us alone," Izzie commanded, leaving no room for argument. Lizzie simply laughed, holding her hands up in a conceding gesture.

"I get the message," she nodded, grinning. Lizzie made her way to the door, easing past the figure of Izzie as she did so, and whispering in her ear, "I think I have more of a crush on you now away."

"Sorry bitch. I'm taken," Izzie smirked, pushing the door firmly shut and flicking the lock for extra security.

"_Sorry bitch, I'm taken_?" Addison echoed.

"Slighty cheesy but—" Izzie started before Addison's mouth smothered hers.

"So goddamn hot," Addison murmured hungrily, peeling off Izzie's clothes.

"Glad you think so," Izzie gasped as her lover kissed her neck and led her to bed.


	4. Money Can't Buy Me Love: IV

"You know, I've been thinking," Addison yawned sleepily nuzzling Izzie's neck. The expensive hotel sheets clung to their sweat and dawn was peeking in through the window.

"Colour me surprised. You shouldn't be able to think properly after sex like that," Izzie sighed contentedly. Addison wore a mock-offended expression as Izzie playfully tickled her side. She didn't last long until she laughed squeamishly, catching Izzie's hand and tucking it round. "OK. So you've been thinking."

"I've been thinking I should properly move to Seattle."

"You already live in Seattle," Izzie said, with a low furrowed brow.

"I know. I mean a house. I'm going to buy a house."

"Considering how ridiculously overpaid you are, you could buy several," Izzie mused. "Coupled with the family fortune, you could buy a suburb. Make sure none of the little people bother you."

"Shut up," Addison murmured, covering Izzie's mouth with her own. "And I'm not overpaid. I'm worth every penny."

"You're worth more," Izzie grinned. "Like a billion gagillion dollars."

"Oh you think you're so cute," Addison smiled, pulling Izzie closer to plant tiny kisses over her face and neck.

"I know so," Izzie laughed. "So what brought this on?"

"Living in a hotel. With none of my own things around me… My furniture, my pictures, my books. It's still seems temporary," Addison mused, looking around the room.

"You're a material girl," Izzie nodded, settling on Addison's chest.

"I'm a material girl," Addison concurred, smoothing down Izzie's hair. "I like to nest. Like somewhere that's actually mine and isn't cleaned by a chamber maid everyday."

"There are advantages to that," Izzie pointed out.

"I want my own place. To come home to. To have a home."

"So people will stop thinking I'm some hooker with a standing contract," Izzie grinned. "A live-in escort. You - My Richard Gere."

"Well it is what everyone's thinking," Addison replied, trying to keep a straight face.

"All because of that time I showed up in fishnets and a PVC skirt."

"That was a good Friday night," Addison reminisced.

"So. House. Have you started looking?"

"Not yet. I was thinking, maybe, you might want to help me look," Addison half asked, hesitantly.

"Yeah, of course," Izzie replied obviously.

"The reason I was thinking was… And I know we've only been in relationship for nine months—"

"Nine months and two weeks," Izzie corrected playfully. "And we're in a relationship? When did that happen? Why didn't you tell me? I thought it was just sex. I'm gonna have to let all the other girlfriends go…" Izzie said ruefully

"Shut up," Addison begged, laughing. "I'm trying to… I'm saying. I know we've not been together for that long. But I thought you might want to help me look because one day, whenever you want, that you might want to move in with me. So if that ever happened- _whenever_ it happened, however long into the future- that you might want some say into the house. That you might move into. One day—If you want."

Izzie pushed herself up to look Addison in the eye. All playfulness was gone from Izzie's face, she was suddenly very serious. And this made Addison very nervous that she'd just brought this up all too soon.

"Get out from under Meredith and Derek and mopey Divorce-O Georges' feet and see you every day? Are you kidding?" she asked rhetorically.

"Like I said, maybe one da—" Addison rushed.

"Of course!" Izzie beamed.

"Yeah?" Addison said softly.

"Hell, yeah," Izzie laughed. "You know. As long as you don't leave the toilet seat up."

"Shut up, Stevens," Addison groaned, breaking into giggles.

--

"Hey George," Izzie said nervously. "I have something to talk to you about."

He was bent over a cardboard box, sifting through it. "Goddamn Callie."

"What?"

He scooped up a handful of shattered pieces and held it out to Izzie.

"Is that glass?"

"No. Bits of CD's. She's killed all my CD's," George raged. "All my old CD's from when I was a kid. That Nirvana record I got signed before they were famous. Everything."

"Oh. Shit. Sorry," Izzie bit her lips, sliding onto one of the dining table chairs.

"I know I haven't listened to them much lately," George bemoaned. "I'm not a huge fan... But it's all in pieces. I'll never be able to have it again. Because she killed it. She murdered them all. And there was that Beatles one that was my Dad's… Slaughtered. It's a bloodbath."

"George…"

"It's not like I can stitch em back up again. No. There's no cut, sew, close here. These were… OK, they were CD's but they were important to me. It's what I used to do as a teenager. Listen to music in my room with my science and math books. In my own world. Since all the other kids thought I was—"

"A geek?" Izzie nodded, understanding.

"Weird," George corrected with a furrowed brow. "Now I'm a divorced twenty-six year old who works too much with a box of brokenness. It's all broken."

"I know," Izzie sympathised.

"My brothers took me to that Nirvana concert. Jerry loved them. He grew his hair. We all went together. My dad dropped us off and warned them to take care of me. My mom made them take bandages with us. In case I got hurt. And now it's gone."

"George it's not gone. You still remember. She can't take that away."

"It's gone," he said defeated, pushing the box away. He looked up at her. "You have something to talk about?"

"It's OK. It can wait."

"No, tell me. It'll take my mind off the massacre," he said, resting his chin on his hands.

"It's not important."

"Izzie."

"I'm… I'm moving in with Addison," Izzie said slowly, studying George's face to gauge his reaction.

"Well. That's great, Iz," George said, trying to sound as genuine and happy as possible instead of bitter. "Just make sure you keep your CDs safe."

"George…"

"No. Sorry. It's great, it is. I'm happy for you," he affirmed. "I'll keep anything valuable in storage for you."

"It doesn't have to be right away," Izzie told him. "I know you're going through a difficult time and I want to be here for you."

"You can't help me. Or them," he gestured to the box. He paused. "Last week it was my clothes, this my CD's. If she sends my mother shredded in a box to me next week, then you have to help me kick her ass."

Izzie squinted at him, not sure if he was joking or if he had actually lost it.

"I'm kidding," George said obviously. "We're going to kick her ass anyway. Although she's probably stronger than both of us put together. So I'll buy a sniper rifle. So we can be far, far away."

"George, blood of the trailer park runs through my veins. I'm pretty sure I could take her," Izzie offered.

"It's OK. No fighting. No snipers," he sighed, squashing his face against the table.

"Do you still love her?"

"Yes," he moaned.

"Have you told her that?"

"No point."

"Yes there is, George," Izzie nodded. "At the very least, she'll feel too bad and stop sending you pieces of your life in the mail."

"I miss her. Why did I do what I did?" he sighed. He didn't wait for a reply. "I'm going back to bed."

"It's two in the afternoon."

"I don't care."

--

"How was he?"

"He's a man destroyed. I feel bad for wanting to leave," Izzie said, leaning on the estate agents car.

"If you want to wait…"

"No, let's get moving," Izzie decided. "House hunting takes ages right?"

"It's this one over here," the realtor pointed to the biggest house in the street. Izzie looked up at the building and gasped. "My God."

In a street where there were several well sized, beautiful houses with white picket fences, Izzie had failed to notice the colossal house hidden behind steel gates and drooping trees.

"You OK? You don't like it," Addison guessed, taking her hand.

"No. From the outside it looks very… big."

Their realtor ushered them through the door of the house they were viewing. "My God," Izzie muttered again as she looked around. She estimated that her entire childhood trailer could have looked dwarfed in the opening hallway. Several doors branched off the space to other rooms and a grand, wide staircase wound up to the next floor. "Is this as big as where you grew up?"

"Roughly," Addison murmured. "A bit smaller. Roughly a bit smaller. Not much. Roughly."

"This is insane," Izzie whispered to herself as she gripped her coffee cup. "Freaking insane."

"Here we have the greeting room," the realtor said as he ushered them into a room which Izzie guessed could house a small plane. "A place to welcome people into your home."

"How old is that wood panelling?" Addison asked, pointing upwards.

"Ah. Keen eye to notice that. Nineteenth century. This house itself is only fifty years old but the first owner was a keen—"

"Blah, Blah, Blah," Izzie muttered underneath her breath as she wandered away. She surveyed the place carefully, thinking, _So this is how the other half lives. _

Yes, for a while she had been a multimillionaire but that wasn't even reality. She didn't spend any of that money. She gave it all away. In all honesty, never a dime of her inheritance had been in her own hands. Cheques and funding donation papers were superficial; made it all seem less real.

Yet here she was in a house that was probably costing well upwards of a couple million dollars and Addy was chatting away about the restoration of 19th century wood. She knew Addy could well just write a cheque this minute for the house in the same manner as someone else might buy a nice dress without looking at the price - just to be daring.

"What do you think?" Addy called over her shoulder to Izzie, after noticing that she had wandered off in a different direction.

"It's very big," Izzie said simply, chewing on the side of her paper coffee cup.

"We haven't seen it all."

"The hall. The hall is very big," Izzie grinned nervously. Addison moved from the realtor to her girlfriend, giving him a knowing nod to slip into the next room. She slipped her hand into the blondes' and stroked her face.

"Are you OK? Is this a bit overwhelming? The-looking-for-house-together thing? Because I understand. I honestly don't mind if we take it back a step," Addison said soothingly.

"No, I'm not worried about that," Izzie waved a hand dismissively. "I'm onboard for moving in together. I'm driving the train, in fact. But… But this is very big."

"Would you prefer somewhere smaller? I mean, this is only the first house we've looked at…"

"House? This is a freaking mansion," Izzie burst out, unable to contain herself. "From what I can guess, you could comfortably fit a four storey mall car park in this 'house'."

"Is it money?" Addison asked quietly.

"No, it's not the money," Izzie shook her head. "Well it might be. I could afford to stay in the Archfield for three lifetimes before I could afford to contribute to this in any meaningful way. I'm not sure I could even afford the gardeners rates here."

"I know that and it doesn't matter. Once you're a hotshot Attending commanding the kind of salary Burke, Derek and I are on, then we'll work something out but—"

"But until then I'm a dead weight," Izzie laughed sorely. "I could model again… Cause if we don't like this place then I'm assuming we'll still be looking at houses in this kind of bracket."

"Money doesn't matter, Izzie," Addison whispered.

"It doesn't matter when you have it," Izzie half-snapped. Addison's eyebrows shot up, and Izzie instantly knew that was the wrong thing to say. Addison cleared her throat and stepped backwards, calmly sipping her coffee.

"I'll go tell the realtor we don't like it," she said evenly, walking away from Izzie.

"But you haven't even seen the whole rest of it yet!" Izzie called. She added under her breath, "Though that would probably involve a journey on the scale of Lord of the Rings."

--

"Izzie, what are you doing home? I thought you were house hunting?" George added the last part with a hint of venom as he peered round her bedroom door to see her flopped face down on the bed.

"Not simple house hunting. No. It was mansion hunting, estate hunting. Goddamn freaking small country hunting," Izzie mumbled into her pillow.

"What?" George blinked, having not been able to understand a word. Izzie turned over as he sidled onto the bed next to her.

"You should have seen this place. This house would've fit in it ten times over."

"And that's a problem?" George asked incredulously. "Maybe I'm just old fashioned in the bigger-the-better belief. It's very American."

"Money, George. I don't have any money."

"I don't think Addison's with you for the money," he scoffed.

"And neither am I," she said firmly.

"Is that why you're upset? You don't want people to think you're boning McHot for the dough?" George smiled, amused at himself.

"I'm not."

"I know you're not. And Dr Montgomery knows you're not. So what's the big deal? Enjoy it. You can't have your woman living in a shoebox because that's all you can afford," he reasoned with a cheeky grin, amused he had referred to Addison as 'your woman.'

"Stop it. Stop making sense and reasoning with irrational, insecure Izzie when I know this already," she snapped. "I know this, it just bothers me."

"Money's just money. Yeah, it was a problem growing up. It's hard when your family can't afford to support you and send you to college because you have to do stuff for yourself," George said earnestly, sitting up. "But that just makes you a better person. You didn't let money stuff get in your way. You did it regardless. Course your smoking body helped a bit."

"It did," Izzie said stiffly, trying not to smile.

"So don't let the opposite stand in your way now," George told her.

Izzie sighed and turned to him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "God, I love you."

"Yeah, you're OK as well," George cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks blush pink.

--

"Addison."

Addison removed her focus from her glass of red wine in the hotel bar to see a familiar face quickly approaching. She grimaced and then did her best to put on a winning smile.

"Elizabeth. You're back. How did I not anticipate this?"

"I am back," Elizabeth nodded, sliding the bag off her shoulder and setting down her suitcases.

"Checking in?"

"I am. Got a gallery show in town."

"There are plenty of galleries in New York," Addison bit back, playing with the bar nuts.

"I believe there are," Elizabeth replied tongue-in-cheek. "But my wonderful big brother somehow managed to get an owner to look at some of my pieces and he loved them. It's opening tomorrow and I thought I'd better show face. It's polite."

"Uh huh," Addison said, draining her glass. "So why aren't you staying with this wonderful big brother?"

"Well obviously he's working thirty hours a day and he lives in a trailer. Which smells of wet dog. So I'm staying here – His treat."

"How good of him," Addison replied distantly, thinking of Doc, and that entire year she had lived in the trailer.

Elizabeth studied Addison intently as the red head playing with her glass, clearly deciding whether to get another merlot, or perhaps the bottle.

"Are you OK?" she asked genuinely, pulling up the bar stool next to Addison.

"Fine," Addison replied in a hard tone. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Addison, how long have I known you? And how many fights have we been in? I know when you're pissed off. It's hard not to recognise the signs," Elizabeth told her, signalling the bartender.

"I'm not pissed off. I'm… confused. I'm confused," Addison decided.

"Well are you confused over whether you should have another wine?" Elizabeth asked, bemused.

"Lizzie…"

"No agenda. No anything. I won't misbehave. Let's just have a drink and you can tell me about your problem," she offered. "And if you don't like my advice, then I give you full licence to tell me to fuck off. With no back chat. Promise."

Addison paused for a second, before realising that Elizabeth was telling the truth. And as there was no harm in a friendly drink and a patient ear - Addison accepted.

--

Two and a half hours later, with two empty bottles of red wine easily disposed of, Addison and Elizabeth still sat at the hotel bar.

In the hour, Addison had explained her situation with Izzie, gotten sound advice and they had continued to discuss all manner of topics. However, the conversation slowly looped back around to the subject of the pretty blonde once more.

"I mean, is money an issue?" Addison chewed on a cocktail stick thoughtfully.

"Money is an issue for everyone. Just never had to be for you," Lizzie shrugged. "Not that you're arrogant or snobbish. Not at all. It's just not something you have to take into consideration. I get how Izzie feels. I mean, I put myself through art school."

"Really? I never knew that," Addison said, taken aback. "But your parents definitely paid for Derek. And Nancy as well. Don't know about Kathleen and Anna though…"

"Nope. They got a full ride as well," Elizabeth laughed harshly at herself. "Because they were doing something mom and dad wanted them too. The last thing they wanted was an arts student stopping them from the full med school sweep."

"God," Addison shook her head. "I never knew."

"And it's a little different from Izzie. At least she went into it knowing that there were jobs out there for her and she could pay off her debt. It's not like there are classifieds for the struggling artist."

"You're not struggling."

"I'll always struggle. Always will," Elizabeth said, doing her best to sound unconcerned. "Even if I get a good fee that can do me for a couple of years, I need to produce the work for another few years living. And what if I did really strike it lucky and had enough for a lifetime? Would I paint anymore? I know I'd want to. But would I still need to?"

"Makes med school sound easy," Addison said softly, having never seen Lizzie so creatively exposed. She had seen Elizabeth upset or angry or insecure before, but she had never talked about her work and fears so openly.

"So the plan is to get a rich husband and screw the maid," Elizabeth quipped glibly, closing herself back up again.

"You could just be happy," Addison replied gently. "Find the woman you love. And if she's rich – bonus."

"God, I can just see the riot of the Shepherd clan," she groaned. "Might buy rubber bullets just to be on the safe side."

"It's ridiculous your parents don't know after all these years," Addison guffawed into her glass. "Considering you've never had a single boyfriend. They must suspect something, other than that you're not marriage material."

"Well, there was Mark," Elizabeth recalled. "Suppose that allayed suspicions for a while."

"You and Mark?" Addison said, surprised. She shook her head and laughed. "But, obviously. Of course Mark. Who hasn't… with Mark."

"He's a rites of passage – even for a young homo in New York," Lizzie shrugged. "Besides, it's not as if you're waving the rainbow flag in front of _your_ parents, jumping up and down, pointing at Izzie, screaming 'this is my soon-to-be live-in lover.' "

"Because my parents loved Derek and are old and would very much die," Addison told her, sitting up. "Their brains would overload. They would actually stroke out. And die. And my brother… don't get me started."

"Don't you think they'd want you to be happy?"

"I'm a divorcee. That pretty much negates any future happiness on my parents part," Addison bit her lip. "And Eric… he's just oblivious to the concept of divorce. Or love in the locker room."

"They might surprise you."

"They wouldn't, trust me," Addison laughed bitterly. "It's practically the family motto. 'No surprises – Ever!' "

"Well, why are you pressuring me into telling my parents when you sure as Hell won't tell yours – even though it could be argued that you damn well should seeing as you're going to be living with your girlfriend?" Lizzie shot back.

"Because I think it would make you happy to have it in the open," Addison told her sincerely. "Your family are all really close, all of you. I mean, for Gods sake, not even Golden Derek or your sisters know. I don't see my parents, ever. But you can't really escape your family. Unless you moved to New Zealand."

"Not a bad idea…" Lizzie mocked. Addison playfully hit her on the arm. "I understand what you're saying, and _maybe_ you have a point. But it's just much more hassle than it's worth."

…_I don't want to risk disappointing them again_, was the unspoken thought.

--

When the hotel bar closed, Addison and Elizabeth were reluctant to leave, savouring every last drop of their wine and evening of comfortable conversation.

Elizabeth was checked in two floors above Addison, so they each pressed their separate buttons in the elevator and both leaning ever so slightly on the walls for support.

"This was a really nice night with no agenda and no awkwardness," Addison remarked, struggling to keep her speech unslurred by the effects of the copious volumes of alcohol. "Thank you for being there. And being a friend."

"Happy to be a friend," Lizzie smiled genuinely. "I'm sorry about last time, I just saw an opportunity to get something good back and—"

"You went for it," Addison interrupted, stifling a nervous laugh. "That's just you. Secret is I'm a little jealous of that sometimes."

"I won't tell," Lizzie grinned, pushing her own hair back. "But seriously, if you need a friend or another night in the bar, I promise good behaviour. It's not like I'm pining over a big geek like you."

"Hey!" Addison protested without much effect.

"But I'm a happy friend," Lizzie announced as the elevator stopped at Addison's floor.

"And I'm happy you're a happy friend," Addison replied, waiting for the doors to open.

When they did, Addison was taken aback by the sight of Izzie, wrapped in jacket and scarf. She wasn't sure if this slightly pissed off Izzie was an apparition of her drunken imagination.

"Going down?" Lizzie called from behind, not seeing who was at the elevator doors. "Cause I'm up."

"Down," Izzie replied icily, stepping back. "So I'll just wait for the next one."

"Iz," Addison murmured softly, reaching forward. Izzie quickly side-stepped any advance as the doors _bing-ed_ closed to send Lizzie up to her own floor.

"You're drunk," Izzie stated simply.

"Not a lot," Addison fibbed.

"Addison, I can smell the wine from here. Plus you split some on your shirt," Izzie pointed out coldly, doing her best not to look Addison in the eye. "And that was Elizabeth."

Addison opened her mouth and shut it again.

"Another trans-continental booty call?" Izzie suggested calmly, doing her utmost best to remain impassive.

"No. No," Addison told her vehemently. "She's in town, we met by chance in the bar."

"By chance?"

"She's a happy friend!"

Izzie looked slightly disgusted. "Whatever that means."

"It means I love you. And I'm with you. And I'm faithful to you," Addison said sincerely, trying to touch Izzie's shoulders before she moved away again. Addison steered Izzie's gaze towards her own.

"I came to tell you I was sorry about before. I waited for an hour but you were out. Clearly. So. Sorry," Izzie said shortly. She moved out of Addison's hold and hammered the down button for the elevator.

"I'm sorry as well. Really sorry. And I want to talk about it, though now's not the best time as—"

"You're drunk?"

Addison looked down and fiddled with her key card. "Come inside. We'll sleep and we'll talk in the morning."

"I'm going home. I promised George I would," Izzie dismissed.

"No you didn't, because your scrubs for tomorrow morning are in there," Addison pointed out, looking to Izzie's bag. "You're lying."

"Don't point at my scrubs - You just tumbled out of the elevator with your secret _ex_ who tried to maul you a few months ago, who also happens to be your ex husbands _sister_ who you cheated on with his _best friend_ so – Don't. Point at my scrubs. And tell me I'm the liar," Izzie raged.

Addison shook her head and smiled awkwardly to cover up the rising feeling that she might cry. She held up her hands and backed down the corridor away from Izzie and to her hotel room.

"Addison!" Izzie called impatiently. "Don't walk away, I never—Addy!"

Addison waved a hand behind her head in silent warning for Izzie not to follow her. She held one hand to her mouth to stifle any sob that may escape before she could enter the safety of her room.

"Addison!" Izzie yelled. She stamped her foot and gripped her head tightly. "Fuck!"

The elevator _bing_-ed and the doors slid open to reveal a middle aged man and his wife.

"Going up?"

"No I am not fucking going up!" Izzie snapped, seething. "Fuck you and your _going up_! I'll take the stairs."

--

The next morning Izzie was completely and totally shattered. She had been up all night, annoyed and worried and angered about what had happened. She knew what she had said wasn't something Addison could easily shrug off as just another thing said in a fight. She tried calling thirty or forty times until Addison's cell was switched off and the Do Not Disturb was put on the hotel phone.

Had Addison slept? Did she think it was over? Had she drank herself into a coma? Had she invited the she-devil living upstairs for some illicit rebound sex?

All these questions and more bounced around Izzie's head constantly. Some were fleeting thoughts and worries; others carried more of a threat, lingering in her mind, available for more detailed scrutiny.

The thought that because of what she had said, Addison had ran into the open arms of the BitchShepherd was turning Izzie Stevens inside out. As she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, the bags under her eyes had increased tenfold, while her face looked pale and drawn.

Her busy head was pounding, so she took two of Meredith's painkillers and washed her face.

She had to go a pretend to be a doctor now. Someone people entrusted their lives to. And she couldn't get that damned red head out of her thoughts.

Addison would be at the hospital. She would be pissed off and avoid her like Hell. But Izzie would track her down like a bloodhound and Izzie would apologise and explain. They would sneak to the on-call room for some light snuggling and a much needed nap. And everything would be fine.

To Izzie, that version of events sounded just fine.

--

"All right, we've a lot on the board today so surgeries a plenty. Dr Shepherd, Dr Torres and Dr Montgomery all need lackies today," Miranda Bailey told her interns, gesturing to the Attendings standing next to her. Addison was purposefully not looking at anyone, with a hard, steeled expression and scribbling furiously on her chart. "Preferences, Doctors?"

"I'll take O'Malley," Shepherd nodded and George sighed gratefully on the off chance Callie might have picked him to torture him.

"Stevens," Addison said shortly. "I'll have Stevens."

"Of course you will," Alex sniggered, folding his arms.

"Excuse me, Doctor Karev?" Addison snapped, looking up immediately. Her furious stare stopped Alex from returning with another smart comment and he remained silent, looking to the ground.

"I'll take Grey and Yang," Callie gestured. "I need four hands for what you're about to see and I'm not in the mood for crap from Karev."

"Hear that, Karev? Last one picked. You might think about changing your attitude and respecting your superiors," Bailey told him. "You're in the clinic."

"Seriously?" he rolled his eyes until they met with Miranda's glare. He cleared his throat and altered his tone. "Seriously, dude. I am so excited."

"Glad to hear it," she replied, ushering him away. Derek and George sped away towards the pre-op wing while Meredith and Cristina half-ran to catch up with Callie who was already on the way to the examination rooms.

This left Addison and Izzie in front of the surgical board.

"Addy—"

"Stop there, Dr Stevens," Addison said shortly. "I did not pick you because I want to talk about last night or anything regarding our personal life. I picked you because this is surgery on the Dalton Premy. You have a strong relationship with the mother and right now she's frightened and worried for her baby so any sense of constant comfort I can give her is what I will do. I picked you because I'm a professional. Who is here to do a job. Right now, I expect you to act in this manner. Understood?"

Izzie opened and shut her mouth several times before she could muster a response. "Understood, Dr Montgomery."

--

Addison knocked on Angela Dalton's door tentatively, waiting a second before entering with Izzie in tow.

"Dr Montgomery," Angela greeted with a anxious smile.

"Angela, how are you?" Addison asked softly, sitting on the side of the bed.

"Oh. You know. My ten month old daughter is having heart surgery, I'm just peachy," she laughed nervously.

"While surgery can be risky in any case, this is a fairly straight forward procedure. Just a follow up on her surgery after she was born. You remember Dr Isobel Stevens? She'll be assisting me. Dr Burke will be along shortly, you've met him before – our cardio thoracic specialist."

"Izzie," Angela smiled warmly.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Addison asked as Angela shook her head. "All right, well any questions and Dr Stevens will be able to answer them."

As the door closed gently over, Izzie assumed the spot on the bed Addison had just vacated.

"This _is_ straightforward, Angela. I would say you have nothing to worry about but I think that'd be a futile. But you can worry less. You know, Dr Montgomery – She's the best."

"I know," Angela sighed, smoothing down the bed covers and looking intently at Izzie. "So, is it 'Dr Stevens' now? Is that what I should call you?"

"I've always been a doctor," Izzie replied, bemused.

"I'm talking about Dr Montgomery."

"She's just… Very professional," Izzie forced out.

"Ah," Angela nodded wisely. "So the last time I was here, you were both making puppy eyes behind each others back. Then you finally got it together and it was clear to everyone how happy you were. Now I come back and you're—what?—Broken up?"

"No, not broken up," Izzie told her, horrified. "Wait- Puppy eyes? We never. I never. It was completely spontaneous. Neither of us saw it coming."

"Well I could," Angela scoffed. "And a lot of other patients on the OB-GYN ward. It was our running soap. There's only so much of the goddamn 'Young and the Restless' I can take."

"What? You saw it?" Izzie asked, completely confused. "How? I didn't even see it."

"I don't think either of you knew," she started carefully. "Like it was something so far removed from your life back then – Like you were both going through separate personal dramas. So falling in love with your boss, female boss I could add, didn't really seem like an option. The same for her. Doesn't mean you weren't though."

"How did you come to this conclusion?" Izzie asked incredulously.

"Just looks, glances. Occasions when one of you would touch or move into personal space of the other and you were both hyper-aware of how close you were and how uncomfortable it was. I don't think either of you knew _why_ it was uncomfortable. But Dr Montgomery would get all bashful, apologising profusely for just grazing past you. And you would get tongue-tied and confused… It was _sooo_ clear you wanted each other," Angela grinned. "That's what happens when you're in love with someone but they don't know it. You're so worried about being normal around them and not doing anything which might betray your secret lust."

"Now you're just being dramatic," Izzie rolled her eyes, getting up from the bed and checking the IV.

"Maybe. Doesn't mean I'm wrong. You were a long time coming. You both deserved something real and pure that could bring happiness," Angela smiled sadly.

"Maybe," Izzie returned the sad smile. "Where's David, by the way?"

"We separated," Angela said in a deep breath. "See. No one waxes that lyrical about romance than the love lorn."

"God, Angela, I'm sorry. We're talking about Addison and I and there's so much you're going through," Izzie shook her head, regretting being so selfish.

"No, no. I want to hear. It's like watching a season all the way through to a huge cliffhanger but missing the next episode. And at any rate, it really keeps my mind off the current situation by engaging in idle gossip."

"Gossip is never idle," Izzie warned.

"Not in this place, for sure," Angela joked. "So what happened? You have a fight?"

"Yeah. A bit of a fight," Izzie sighed, leaning on the wall. "I was angry with her. Said some stuff I shouldn't have. She won't talk to me. And at work we're purely intern and attending. She doesn't want any of my crap."

"Yes she does," Angela rolled her eyes.

"Not right now, she doesn't," Izzie countered. "I think it's best to wait to talk to her. Give her time."

"You think?"

"If I corner her, it'll make things worse," Izzie wrung her hands. "I have to be patient."

"Right. While you're being patient, my daughter will _be_ the patient," Angela started with warning evident in her tone. "So you better have your head in the game."

"Angela, you don't have to worry," Izzie replied quickly. "No matter what personal crap is going on, it would never affect her game. She's got this amazing ability to compartmentalise stuff when she's got a scalpel in her hand. You'll never meet a more focused or dedicated surgeon. She could perform surgery with the hospital exploding around her, and she wouldn't break a sweat. She is the best for a reason," Izzie defended fiercely.

Angela grinned. "Now why can't you say that to her?"

--

Izzie leaned against the scrub-in sink and pulled her cap off. Surgery had gone well, there had been slight complications just as they were closing up, but as ever, Addison and Burke handled it expertly. Once again, she stood by and watched. That was an intern's position obviously, to watch and absorb and learn.

Perhaps this was even part of some test? Make sure you can get through a surgery while in the midst of a personal cold war with your girlfriend and keep your head in the game?

For the most part Izzie was present at the surgery. But for one moment, she was studying Addison instead of the baby. She was watching her eyebrows knotted tight in concentration, her hands nimbly working around the oh so tiny heart; performing a perfect tag team effort with Burke – each instinctively knowing what the other was doing.

The Burke asked Izzie a question – she knew it. She knew the answer, she knew everything about this case. But when Addison's hard stare travelled up to her, Izzie's power of speech evaporated. Addison looked so thoroughly annoyed and angry that she was fucking up that Izzie felt the air leave the room. She tried to force the answer out but it wouldn't come.

Then Addison suggested that if she wasn't going to 'be' here then it would be better she 'be' outside.

Izzie, with no words to protest, left Addison's OR and watched intently from the scrub room. As Addison and Burke were leaving surgery, Izzie ducked out into the hallway and couldn't help but overhear their conversation.

"Addison, what was that in there?" Burke asked calmly. Izzie could hear his gloves snapping off and being thrown into the disposal bin.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Addison replied curtly, running the water.

"You threw Stevens out in the middle of surgery," he told her obviously. "Professionally it was… Uncalled for. If there are problems—"

"There are no problems, professionally," Addison snapped. "She failed to answer your question, clearly day dreaming in the O.R., she had no place there."

"As much as you'd like it not to be the case, any personal problems _do _become professional problems. Especially when you step into that O.R," Burke said in a low voice. Izzie had to press her ear to the door in order to hear. "Then my question is this – Why did you request her as an intern on this case if there are personal issues?"

"Because she was familiar with the patient, the condition, she was in on the first operation and has a good rapport with the mother," Addison told him firmly.

"Yes. And those are all good professional reasons," Preston conceded. Through the crack of the door, Izzie could see him taking his glasses off to polish them. Addison was leaning against the sink with her head ducked down. "Can I ask what this problem is? Are you not with Stevens anymore?" he asked as he held his glasses up to the light, squinting to see if they were clear.

By focussing on something else, he felt more comfortable asking personal questions of this nature. It was just something he did, more of a nonchalant approach to coaxing things out of people.

Izzie's heart pounded as she waited for Addison's answer.

"No, we're still together," she sighed, folding her arms. The constricting feeling in Izzie's chest relaxed but her fingertips tingled as she felt a 'but' coming. "But we had a fight last night."

"This fight. Was it serious?" Burke asked softly, sliding his glasses back on.

"A bit. Quite a bit," Addison said, punctuating each word with a hint of anger.

"But you're not breaking up. Because I assume you would have done so by now," Burke interjected.

"Well. No. I don't…"

"So was this some sort of test or punishment for Stevens?" Burke asked. "Cristina seems to think that when she's a 'bad' girlfriend, I leave her out of surgery. And it's true. If we're in an argument, I can hardly have her in my O.R. No matter how good, talented or knowledgeable she may be. No matter if she does have previous experience with the patient and a rapport with the family—Well. Not that she would. She's not going to be that type of surgeon," he smiled to himself.

"But we have no business operating together – I have no business being her teacher if there are other factors which harm that. So you might've thought you were doing the right thing for the patient in this instance. But you weren't doing the right thing for you. And _you_ are the one doing the cutting and _you_ are the one with the life in your hands. Don't believe you have to do the 'right thing' by other people when it's going to make your job more difficult. And possibly - your relationship more difficult."

Addison looked up gratefully and sighed. "You should write a book."

"What? 'How to date your interns and get away with it?'" he chuckled.

"You've plenty of case studies in this hospital alone," Addison shrugged.

"I'll give it some thought," he replied, smiling as he advanced towards the door.

"Crap!" Izzie hissed, and took off in the opposite direction. Skidding through the hallways in her slippery soles, she threw a glance over her shoulder to see Addison peering after her.

--

Addison opened the door of the on-call room fully expecting to see Izzie. And sure enough, there she was, lying down with her back to the door.

Addison kept silent, closed the door and hovered over the bunk. After a moments hesitation, she kicked off her shoes and lay down beside Izzie on her back. She stared at mattress above for a few minutes before speaking.

"I'm sorry I asked you to be my intern. It was a bad call," Addison said softly.

"I'm sorry I said what I said last night," Izzie replied, her voice muffled by the pillows.

"I'm sorry I called you out like that in surgery. You didn't deserve that. It was my fault for putting you in that position," Addison sighed, her eyes still fixed above.

"I'm sorry I let you down. I should have been more focused." This time, the muffled reply came with a hint of tears.

"Hey," Addison whispered, scooping her left arm under Izzie's body, turning her and pulling her close. Izzie buried her face in Addison's neck and wrapped her arms around the red head. Izzie sighed deeply, breathing Addison in.

"You didn't let me down, OK?" Addison told Izzie, kissing her forehead.

"I love you a ridiculous amount," Izzie mumbled into Addison's skin.

"Like a billion gagillion," Addy teased gently.

"More," Izzie smiled, hastily wiping her eyes.

"You are so cute," Addison grinned, rolling her eyes.

"I was so worried last night," Izzie forced out. "I thought—"

"Thought what? I'd ran upstairs into the arms of my secret ex?" Addison asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That, or it was just over."

"There's nothing between me and Elizabeth. Or any one else. I couldn't hurt you like that," Addison told her sincerely. Izzie looked up; her eyes were still tear stained and red. "Why would I want anyone else when I've got Doctor Model?"

"Shut up," Izzie laughed, burying her face in Addison's salmon scrubs.

"Then again," Addison started in faux contemplation. "Why would you want anyone else when you've got McHot?"

"Shut up, seriously," she begged, still laughing. Izzie calmed herself down, dried her tears of laughter and breathed in some damn good air. She felt better instantly. "I don't have to be in the clinic for an hour."

"I only have post-op patients the rest of the day," Addison told her hugging her tightly. She reached down at their feet, pulling up a woollen blanket.

"You read my mind."

"I didn't sleep much last night," Addison sighed, pulling it around them. "And I know you didn't either."

"I didn't."

"The realtor called this morning," Addison mumbled with her eyes closed.

"Yeah?"

"He says he has something we have to look at. Something less 'big.' That is if you still want to," she added hesitantly.

"Shut up, McHot," Izzie scolded, yawning. "Make the damn appointment already."

---


	5. Our House: V

"This is incredible," Izzie breathed as she slid her bag off her shoulder. She looked around at the boxes and crates Addison had shipped from New York, to the suitcases full of shoes and clothes from the hotel.

The house they had decided on, together as a couple, was beyond perfect. It was modern, with an airy and open feel. Not a stuffy mansion but instead a large house with as many bedrooms as Izzie had toes. But it didn't matter. From the moment they both saw it, they wanted it. It was out of town, up in the hills. Quiet and secluded with a huge garden. As she looked round, Izzie couldn't believe all this was_ theirs_.

Addison was outside, writing a cheque for the removal company. Izzie was still gazing around the room. She wasn't seeing the chaos of furniture, boxes and cases; she was looking beyond that. She saw the potential and the future happiness and comfort this could provide. A home, with Addison.

When Addison slid her arms around Izzie's waist from behind and rested her chin on the blondes shoulder, Izzie didn't think she could be any happier.

"Home, huh?" Addison murmured softly, kissing Izzie's earlobe affectionately.

"Home," Izzie echoed, smiling. She turned her head and reached behind to catch Addison's lips in a kiss. She grinned widely at her Attending girlfriend before breaking free and bounding excitedly towards the stacks of boxes. "So do we get to unpack now? Put things away? Decide where things go and everything?"

"You want to unpack?" Addison said dubiously, folding her arms and arching her eyebrows. "I'm trying to remember the great unwritten rule a couple has to obey when they move into a new house…"

"What? Like, what's mine is yours? Cause it's mostly gonna be what's yours is mine 'cause I don't really have much apart from utter crap—"

"No. About rooms. And a certain ritual," Addison said, pursing her lips and advancing.

"Oh," Izzie realised, her eyes going wide for a second before breaking into a smirk. She quickly pulled her top over her head and discarded it amongst the boxes. "Here's a good place to start."

"Was thinking the same thing," Addison laughed softly as Izzie swept some boxes from the couch and draped herself over it, giving Addison a tantalising 'come hither' look.

Powerless to resist, Addison obeyed her girlfriend's silent command.

--

With the cold kitchen tiles against her bare back, Addison shuddered with pleasure for the ninth time that afternoon.

The spots were dissipating before eyes when she heard a faint buzzing. She grinned up at her girlfriend, who softly brushed the matted hair from Addison's face.

"Seriously?" Addison chuckled. "You're doing just fine on your own."

Izzie laughed and rolled her eyes. "It's your cell, dumb ass."

"Seriously?" she groaned as she sat up to catch Izzie's lips for a deep kiss. Izzie held her close. They rocked together as they sat interlocked and naked on the cold, new kitchen floor. The cell vibrations stopped as Addison started a trail of kisses from Izzie's neck to belly button.

Before she could get any further, the phone started vibrating again.

"Seriously?" Izzie moaned, flopping backwards. "You should get it. Might be the hospital."

Addison untangled her limbs from Izzie's and found it extremely difficult to make her shaking legs walk the few steps to the kitchen table. Izzie giggled softly as she watched Addison's unintentionally imitation of a child's shaky first steps. Izzie sighed contentedly, knowing gladly that it was her doing.

Addison flipped open the phone without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Addy! Guess who?" asked a male voice.

"I don't—Eric?" Addison guessed, shocked.

"Course it's me!" Eric told her. "What? Over a year and no 'I missed you' or 'my life has been so empty without you' - etcetera etcetera?"

"No, no," Addison said, shaking herself out of her daze. "Eric, of course I missed you. And mom and dad. How are they? Is everything all right?"

"No, they're fine, don't worry. We got your 'change of address' letters. House looks fantastic. Anyway. That's not why I called," he replied. "I'm gonna be living in your part of the world."

"I'm sorry—What?" Addison blinked.

"I got a chance to move to a Washington parish or a Californian one – And you know I've never been good with sun. So guess which one I picked?"

Addison's palms felt suddenly very sweaty and she was very aware that she was completely naked.

"Washington?"

"Yeah, Washington, Addy! Aren't you excited?"

"Of course… I'm excited," Addison said slowly in a tone which was anything but. "But you live in New York."

"I know, but I wanted to be the shepherd to my own flock instead of the back up singer. Ha, Shepherd – You get it? How is Derek?"

"Derek is… Derek is…" Addison stammered as she saw Izzie coming towards her, also completely naked. Her blonde hair tousled over her shoulders and curious expression captivated Addison for a moment.

"Oh wow, don't tell me you two kids are back together?" Eric said happily.

"What?" Addison said, snapping out of it by turning her back on Izzie.

"You and Derek – Back together. I always knew this would happen."

"Back together?" Addison repeated incredulously.

"Wait til I tell mom and dad."

"No, we're not… We just w—"

"Oh, it's complicated," Eric cut in. "I get it. Well you can tell us all about it when we go out for dinner."

"Sure. Of course," Addison nodded, pulling her hair back tightly, feeling anxiety constrict her chest tightly. "When are you coming into town? Next few months are pretty good so any time—"

"Well we thought you might have time off now. With the move and everything," Eric supposed, trying hard to remain casual and suppress his growing amusement.

"Well, I do… But—"

"Look outside, Addy," he burst.

"What?" Addison spun round.

"We're outside! We thought we'd surprise you. Me, mom and dad. I was coming through to look at the Parish and it was all their idea. So you gonna let us in?"

Addison's mouth went dry as she heard the rampant knocking at the front door. She knew this was no joke.

"Give me a second," she said into the phone, throwing it aside. She turned to Izzie, now picking at strawberries in front of the fridge.

"Who was that?" Izzie asked airily.

"My brother. And my parents. Are here. Now," Addison said breathlessly.

"What?" Izzie double took. "Now? Here?"

"Clothes!" Addison announced, completely focused on the current task at hand. She scanned through the rooms with a frightening level of concentration. _Nothing_ was as important as finding those clothes.

"They're amongst the boxes in the living room!" Izzie called through.

Successfully, Addison managed to pluck out both her and Izzie's clothes that had been scattered happily throughout the living room only this morning.

Addison held the bundle in her arms and grabbed Izzie's hand.

"Addison, there are big windows that way. We have no curtains. You really want your family to see you naked?" Izzie reminded her.

"Right. Of course," Addison nodded. She looked about, still not used to the shape and layout of the house just yet. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a broom closet that would afford them cover. She pulled Izzie inside, closing the door behind them.

Pulling on the light bulb string, Addison threw clothes at Izzie. Then she got herself dressed in record time and opened the closet door again.

"Get dressed, don't come out of the closet when they can see you and pretend you were upstairs or something," Addison suggested to a naked and bewildered Izzie, before shutting the door over.

Izzie blinked rapidly, unable to comprehend _just_ what had happened. One moment, on the kitchen floor wrapped around each other – the next she was clutching a bundle of clothes alone in the near dark.

Shaking her head, she began to slowly and quietly pull her clothes on. She heard Addison open the front door, greeting the intruding family members. She heard them file in, embrace each other with 'what a surprise' and 'It's been too longs'.

Once Izzie was dressed, she pressed her ear to the door to discover Addison was giving them the tour. They were heading towards the kitchen.

Quietly, Izzie crept out and climbed the stairs. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of this whole charade. Surely her parents weren't so oblivious they wouldn't be able to tell their daughter had been in the middle of a room christening ritual with her girlfriend? She had been married after all, they knew she couldn't be a virgin. Surely they couldn't buy this?

Sighing, Izzie descended into the hall, faking surprise to see visitors in the house.

"Addison, I didn't hear the door," Izzie forced out, smiling politely as the Montgomery clan turned to see her.

"Izzie, these are my parents, and my brother Eric," Addison introduced dutifully. "Mom, Dad, Eric – This is Isobel Stevens. She's a resident at Seattle Grace."

Izzie tried very hard to keep the smile plastered to her face. _Is it important for her parents to know I'm not some toy-girl type thing? That I have a career?_ Izzie asked herself, confused at why she had been introduced in this particular way. _How much has she actually told them about me?_

They'd told their parents on the same day that they'd bought the house. Over the phone was not the ideal coming out, Izzie supposed. But Addison had said it went well enough. Izzie's mom didn't sound entirely surprised or shocked. Just that she missed Izzie and hoped to meet Addison some day. Addison's parents couldn't have reacted badly if they were here, could they?

"It's very nice to meet you, Dr Stevens," Mrs Montgomery said kindly, taking one of Izzie's hands in both of hers.

"Lovely to meet you too," Izzie told her genuinely in her 'pleasant parent' voice. It was a voice used almost exclusively for meeting parents. Sometimes Izzie adopted it on the phone when dealing with particularly ardent sales people. But mostly parents. "I've been wanting to meet you all for such a long time. Addison's told me so much about you, but I was starting to think you were a myth."

"How long have you and Addy known each other?" Eric asked, casting a suspicious eye over the red head and the blonde.

"About two years now," Izzie considered carefully. "But this is the first time we've lived together—"

"We've only been working together for the past year or so. In my speciality," Addison interrupted quickly, doing her best to divert parental attention and enquiries. "Dr Stevens could be a great OB-GYN one day."

Izzie squinted at Addison in confusion as the family's backs were turned. As soon as they moved round to her, Izzie had adopted her smile again.

"You're living together? Addy - Why do you need a lodger?" Eric scoffed.

Izzie laughed heartily, believing that Eric was making a joke. A rather lame joke, but she felt that it was polite to laugh at her girlfriend's brother. However, she soon realised no one was laughing and everyone was looking at her. Apart from Addison, who was staring at the ground.

"Helping out a friend," Addison said slowly.

Izzie's eyes widened, not believing what she was hearing.

"You're very lucky to have our Addison as a friend," Mrs Montgomery told Izzie with that unsettlingly benevolent glint in her eye.

_Dear God,_ Izzie realised.

Addison closed her eyes briefly. It was clear to Izzie that she was praying for something. Slowly, all the pieces started to fit together in her mind and Izzie felt idiotic she hadn't understood sooner.

"There's been a misunderstanding, Mrs Montgomery," Izzie started, clearing her throat. "Addison and I—"

"Derek and I are getting back together," Addison announced desperately.

"Oh that's wonderful news!" her mother exclaimed, putting a hand over her heart. Addison's father nodded approvingly.

"Knew all it needed was time," Eric nodded happily.

And Izzie was drowned out by the barrage of questions aimed at Addison about Shepherd and this romantic 'reunion'. So she turned on her heel and went back upstairs, completely stunned.

--

It was an hour before Addison's family left for the hotel. They had already booked rooms at the Alexis, anticipating that Addison would be in no way prepared in the new house to receive guests.

Izzie listened from upstairs as Addison waved them goodbye at the door, promise to arrange a dinner with Derek and finally heard the car drive away.

Then slowly, she made her way downstairs. With every step, Izzie could feel the rage that had been stewing inside her increase tenfold. It was everything she could do not to scream.

"Izzie," Addison called from the kitchen. Addison knew she was coming, she could feel her coming.

When Izzie appeared at the kitchen door, Addison lifted her head. "Izzie, I am so so sorry. I had to. I am so so sorry. I should have told you… I should have—"

"Told them, perhaps?" Izzie cut in calmly. "Not lied to me about telling them?"

"I can't," Addison shrugged helplessly. She breathed out heavily. She steeled herself for the argument she knew was coming. She could feel it deep in her skin. The thunder and the storm were approaching and there was nothing Addison could do but stand on top of a lightening rod and suck it up.

"Addison. It seems your family doesn't know we're together," Izzie forced out, biting every word. "It seems they think you and Shepherd are reunited once more. It seems I'm the lodger."

"Iz—"

"So, how much is the rent? Is there a security deposit?" Izzie asked sarcastically. Still she seemed calm but on the inside she was seething. Her tone was low and her face dark. Addison knew she was in for one Hell of a storm.

"I'm sorry. I lied," Addison held her arms out defiantly. "It was horrible. I'm a terrible person – Fine. I couldn't tell them… But I didn't know what else to do."

"You could have told them," Izzie said obviously, still holding on to her rage.

"They're only here for a few days and then they're gone—"

"And the other times they visit?" Izzie asked stoically as she unfolded the box labelled 'Kitchen' that was on the table. "And expect to see McDreamy here instead of the poor, down-on-her-luck girl?"

"Then… Then…" Addison stammered.

"You know what could have avoided this?" Izzie asked rhetorically, her nostrils flaring. "You _could_ have told them!" she raged.

"It's not that simple, Izzie. They will _disown_ me."

"You hate them!" Izzie yelled, incredulous. "Why do you care what they think? You. Hate. Them."

"Yeah, but it's my family, I still love them!" Addison yelled back. "It's not as easy as telling your mother."

"What the Hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" Izzie growled.

"It's different, Izzie, it's always different!" Addison explained, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Because my family's different from your family? Because I won't be cut out of the inheritance for the family jewels?" Izzie retorted sarcastically. "The most I have to lose is the old trailer when my mom goes? You're right, there is so much more at stake. It _is_ completely different."

"That is not what I said and you know it," Addison shook her head, exasperated.

"What you meant, though, right? I'm just trailer trash – no expectations, no judgement. Hey! Have a kid at sixteen, we don't bat an eyelid! Shack up with your gay lover? No problem! No judgement's here at trailer central. Anything goes."

"I don't even wanna talk about it when you're like this," Addison decided, infuriated. She started to walk away before a plate smashed behind her head. "What the _fuck?_"

"Got your attention now, huh?" Izzie raged, throwing a wine glass to the floor. "This lowly 'lodger'. Taken in from the cold. Out of the goodness of your heart. How you gonna explain it to your parents when I'm still here in five years time, ten years time? Or you just hoping they've gotten dementia by then?"

"I hadn't thought!"

"You know, if I'm even here in five years. I might've had to move out to make room for your fake husband and go somewhere with _plates_ that aren't _broken_ to eat _off!_" Izzie punctuated her words by throwing yet more crockery to the floor.

Addison jumped back as a saucer exploded into pieces at her feet.

"Goddamnit, Isobel, will you stop smashing… stuff!" Addison yelled.

"No!" she screamed defiantly. "Fuck you Addison, no!"

With that, another stack of bowls tumbled to the ground and shattered into pieces. Addison threw her hands in the air and then bent over, clutching her head.

"Izzie!"

"Your goddamned roommate? Why the _fuck_ would you need a roommate? That's not even believable! Nevermind the lie – The damn, outright lie about you and _Derek?_ Who are you, Addison? Who is this person? Do I know you at all?"

"Izzie you don't understand!" Addison protested, ducking a flying plate.

"Don't I? Fine! You don't want to tell your parents. Fine, you think it's best. I don't. I_ don't_ by the way. We're supposed to be at the stage we're at – living together, sharing a life together – but, but hiding in broom closets – not without it's irony - from your parents and brother – It's ridiculous! But I could understand – But you lied to me. But now – Now – You're staging a fake dinner with your fake reunited husband for your whole fake family!" Izzie ranted, gesturing wildly.

"What do you want me to do Izzie? What do you want me to do?" Addison pleaded, feeling herself at the edge.

"I thought _that_ was obvious," Izzie snapped sarcastically. "Tell them! Or at least tell them you're not getting back with Shepherd. Tell them you love me!"

"I can't do that, I can't do that," Addison sobbed, feeling herself let go of control. She gripped onto the side of the kitchen unit and slid down to the floor covered in shattered china.

At the sight of her girlfriend's tears, Izzie was ready to crack. Let the anger melt away, embrace her and say she was sorry.

But she stopped herself. She steeled herself. And she made the hard choice.

"Then I can't do this," Izzie forced out, shakily.

"What?" Addison blinked, looking up with a wild and shocked expression.

"I can't do this, Addison," Izzie shook her head vehemently. "I can't."

"No, Izzie, please. Iz, please," Addison choked, painful sobs racking her body. "You better not be saying what I think you're saying. Cause I'll goddamn well kill you, if you are."

"This isn't the life I want," Izzie said in a low voice, sounding more and more resolute. "Hiding in the dark while you go to Thanksgiving dinner with your beard husband - me pretending to be barely more than a stranger to you. I want a life. And a home. A family. Children, even. We can't shove all that in a goddamn broom closet when your parents come to town. And since your brother's apparently moving here, 'us' will be pretty much confined to this house, if at all. Before long, it won't even be real to us anymore. There'll be so many lies. I… I can't do that. I don't want to."

"Izzie, please," ached Addison, her tears flowing thick and fast. "Iz, I'm sorry. Please don't go. Please don't leave me. I don't know how to fix this."

"You do," Izzie told her shortly. "You just don't want to."

"Izzie, please!" Addison pleaded, furiously wiping her tears away as Izzie walked away. Seconds later, Addison heard the faint sound of the door clicking shut and another powerful sob choked her throat. She curled up, hid her head into her knees and stayed there until night had fallen.

--

It was late before Addison had the will to move herself. She had slumped in the corner of the kitchen cabinets for hours. Her muscles were aching, her bare feet were surely cut by broken glass and china and her throat felt sore and raspy. She pulled herself up with her aching arms – taken aback at how much crying for hours had decimated her basic functions.

She made her way to the shower, letting the hot water soothe her sore body.

The day had started so differently and it was ending so horribly.

Being enveloped in the steam and comforting cascades of water allowed her time to put the pieces of herself back together. She leant against the tiled wall, trying to forget that the past few hours had happened. She had to forget in order to survive the next few moments, lest she want to collapse into a hysterical ball in the shower.

So Addison Montgomery breathed deeply, turned the shower off and wrapped herself in a fluffy purple towel.

She had to ignore the fact that it was Izzie's purple towel. And since Izzie was the one stubborn enough to have a favourite soap powder and softener which she insisted they use, it smelled like Izzie. For the past month, while Addison was at the hotel, Izzie had insisted she wash Addison's things in _her_ soap powder. At first it was just to check that Addison wasn't allergic to this powder. But it wasn't before long that Addison was dropping off her bundles of washing, exchanging kisses for chores, because the heady smell of Izzie left her breathless when she pulled on clean clothes in the morning. There was nothing better.

Stop. For Addison to survive, she had to cut off that thread of thought there and then.

She sat on the bed, trying to think of anything to keep her going. Drinking sounding like a plan. Drinking was always a plan at a time like this. But drinking alone was just something she refused to inherit from her parents.

So Addison picked up her cell, flicked through her phonebook, straight past Izzie and down a few more to an old friend.

--

George was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal for his dinner when the front door rattled shut and a blaze of blonde hair stormed into the kitchen.

"Izzie!" he cried in surprise, accidentally pouring Wheaties down his shirt. "What's wrong? Are you OK?"

Izzie slammed down a plastic bag full of clinking bottles on the table, and revealed them.

"Can I top you up with some gin?" she offered abruptly, her eyes wild.

"Izzie, what happened?" George repeated, getting up to embrace her. But she moved too quickly, darting to the cabinet to pull out two whisky glasses.

"Where's Meredith?" Izzie asked, pulling out a third.

"She's on-call tonight," George replied, watching Izzie's madness with a furrowed brow.

"Shit. I brought her best friend tequila tonight. She can always be counted on for a dark n twisty binge session, even when she's so freaking happy the sun shines every goddamn day," Izzie cursed.

"Izzie—"

"You like tequila, right?" Izzie asked George, slamming the two glasses on the table. "No matter. I've got a whole assortment in this bag. But I think we'll start with the gin."

She poured two healthy sized measures and scooted a glass over to George.

"Iz—" he started, bringing to glass to his nose to sniff it, then recoiled

"George – Are you or are you not my best friend?" Izzie demanded.

"I am…" he mumbled.

"And are you or are you not depressed?"

"I don't know about depression," George said slowly.

"You're depressed!" Izzie told him with a manic smile. "And what do people in their twenties do when they're depressed and their best friend has gone a little crazy?"

"They drink the gin?" he guessed.

"Yes," Izzie grinned, clinking their glasses together and downing the liquid in one. George, however took a while longer, fighting the urge to throw up by gripping Izzie's shoulder. She rubbed his back.

"You'll get used to it," Izzie soothed. "We've a whole night to get through."

--

Elizabeth Shepherd was sitting down to a drinks meeting with the Seattle Contemporary Arts Gallery owner and several interested buyers when she felt the faint vibrations against her hip. She took her out her cell, pausing when she read the caller ID. Eyebrow arched, she flipped open the phone.

"Addison?"

"H-Hi," Addison stuttered, clearing her throat. "Elizabeth."

"Addy, you OK? You sound terrible," Elizabeth asked, concerned. She excused herself from the bar and wandered outside.

"I feel terrible," Addison replied with a self-deprecating laugh.

"What happened?"

"Izzie and I broke up," Addison told her in a clear voice. "We broke up. It's over."

"Oh, Addy," Elizabeth murmured sympathetically.

"Derek said that you were coming back to town sometime this week because you sold some of your work at the show and were having some fancy meeting or something.." Addison rambled.

"I'm in town now," Elizabeth nodded. "You want me to be a happy friend?"

"I think—I think I might need more than a friend tonight," Addison said slowly and carefully.

"Oh. OK," Lizzie stuttered, clearly startled.

"If you're busy…"

Elizabeth looked over at the Very Important Arts People at the bar and shook her head.

"No. I'm not busy," she replied softly.

"I'll come to you. At the Archfield," Addison said decidedly.

"All right. I'll see you in the bar, I'll be there in half an hour."

--

"Izzie… Izzie," George murmured, pulling her drink away from her and setting it on the table. She was beginning to frighten him. She'd drank more than half the bottle in little under an hour.

"What?" she snapped, taking her glass back and throwing the contents down her throat.

"Izzie, what's going on?" George asked softly. "You haven't said anything besides 'another drink' and 'Fucking Addison' since you got here. What happened with Addison?"

"I left her," Izzie told him sternly, as she steadied her hand to pour another drink.

"Yeah. I guessed that. Cause you're here."

"No. I _left_ her," Izzie spat, raising the glass to her lips. "I broke up with her. It's over."

George spluttered gin all over the table. "What?!"

"This is drinking time," Izzie told him, swallowing another shot.

"Izzie, Izzie, wait, wait," George rushed, pushing the bottle away from her open hand. "That can't be right. You _just_ moved in together. You _just_ met her parents. All big steps and it's all ending."

"Yeah?" Izzie retorted, feeling her head swim. "Well _I_ didn't meet her parents. Dr Stevens from Seattle Grace met her parents. The lodger. The charity case. She met Addison's parents. Not Izzie-the-girlfriend. Dr Stevens-the-nobody. It's all bullshit. She's ashamed of me."

"Iz…" George murmured, covering her hands with his.

"You know what happened? They just dropped by. Addison and I were having sex in the kitchen. And what did we do? Hid in the fricking broom closet! Yeah, that's right. The closet, George. Huh? How's that for a fucking metaphor in action, huh?"

"Well, it's not ideal," he admitted, not able to offer any comfort as he didn't quite know what to do. The alcohol had invaded his brain, apparently robbing him of anything useful to say in a situation like this.

"Fucking broom closet," Izzie scowled, as she snatched up the gin, emptying the remaining contents into both their glasses.

"Did you—"

"I told her to tell them," Izzie interrupted, her glass swaying and spilling alcohol. "But she won't. Because of her trust fund."

"Iz, that's not true," George defended. "S'nothing to do with money. Maybe she's protecting you."

"No, no," Izzie shook her head vehemently, attempting to stand. "Not protecting me - hiding me."

"So what's the big deal?" George asked, oblivious to the ensuing rage currently boiling inside Izzie. "She doesn't want to tell 'em? So she doesn't tell 'em. They live in New York. You live _here_."

"Yeah. Now so does her brother. Her brother the Priest has been given a parish in Seattle. How do you like them apples?" Izzie spat rhetorically.

"Um. Not very much," George said slowly. "Her brother's a Priest? Addison's Catholic?"

"Obviously Eric _really_ is," Izzie slurred.

"Wow. Addison has a Priest brother."

"Yup." Izzie paused to consider this, before reaching for a new bottle of alcohol. "Yet another reason for poor little Addison to be ashamed of me."

--

Elizabeth walked into the Archfield bar, scanning the room for Addison. She expected to find her at the bar with easy access to quick refills. Instead, she was sitting in a booth in the corner, in the darkness.

Elizabeth took a deep breath of courage and approached the surgeon.

"Addy. Drinking alone is really bad for the image," Elizabeth pointed out in mock sympathy.

"That's why you're here," Addison retorted, looking up.

"However, I did see a documentary saying that this was normal behaviour for a WASP in their 30's," Elizabeth joked.

Addison just smiled. "Are you getting me another or just standing there being completely useless?"

"Getting you another," Lizzie replied decidedly.

--

"Oh God, I love her," Izzie bemoaned drunkenly.

"I know," George nodded shortly, helping himself to more bourbon.

"I love her so much," Izzie said in a low voice, shuddering slightly from the taste of her drink. "I love the way she is. The way she thinks. The way she always brushes my hair back out of my face. The way she smiles when she's really happy. The way she rolls her eyes. God I love the way she rolls her eyes. Have I ever told you that?"

"No," George responded.

"Well I do. I love it most when she holds me. When I'm cold, or upset or anxious. She holds me to her and everything just fades. It's like I'm drunk."

"You _are_ drunk."

"No. I mean when she holds me like that. Cause it all fades. And I only focus on her. That's what drunk is like sometimes. And that's what it's like when she holds me," Izzie sighed, pouring the next drink with an unsturdy hand. "Did you feel like that with Callie?"

"Izzie…" George groaned, clearly not wanting to discuss this subject.

"Sorry. But did you? I know you think I'm this insane optimist. And I am. But I really believe that there's only one person for every one. And Addison's mine. She's my person."

George mumbled something unintelligible but Izzie continued.

"So that means it can't be over. Because you can't lose your person. That would be—"

"Horrible," George finished, swirling around the alcohol in his glass.

"Right. Horrible. Terrible. Earth ending, shattering stuff," Izzie continued, not noticing George's demeanour.

"You broke up with her," he pointed out. "You broke up with this so called person. Why would you do that if you were sure?"

"I—" Izzie started. She could say _I was angry._ She could say _She was justified._ But she didn't. She just sat in silence.

--

"So. We've talked about everything. For hours. From my offer, to the most ridiculous crap going on at the hospital. But we you haven't mentioned what happened," Elizabeth said, trying to broach the subject carefully.

"That's cause I don't want to talk about it," Addison smiled beatifically.

"This is becoming a habit. You and Izzie fight. You and I go drinking."

"Twice is not a habit," Addison pointed out. "And we didn't fight. We broke up."

"Addy," Lizzie started, leaning forward. "You and I both know one fight doesn't break a couple up. If you can cast your mind back, it took us three weeks to break up."

"Why did we break up? Eventually. When it happened… Why was it?" Addison asked, refilling her glass.

"You… Cheated on me," Elizabeth said, taking a deep breath.

The memory returned to Addison, and she sat back as though she had been punched in the gut. "I did. I cheated on you."

"Not really out and out cheating," Lizzie said quickly. "You slept with someone while we were going through our arduous break up. And the only way to take that was that you didn't want to be with me. If you would sleep with someone… Instead of working it out…"

"I'm sorry," Addison whispered, clearing her throat.

"You've said that before," Elizabeth half-laughed.

"Probably. But I'm still sorry," Addison replied carefully.

"I still forgive you," Elizabeth nodded, feeling a cold shiver of déjà vu.

"But it doesn't change what happened," Addison said slowly, understanding.

"Addison – What happened?"

"I'm getting tired," Addison said quickly, finishing off her third bottle of red wine. "You have a room here, right?"

--

"I need to call her," Izzie decided, fumbling in her pocket for her cell. She dialled Addison's number and heard it ring. After a while, someone picked up.

"Addy, I need—" Izzie blurted, before stopping in her tracks realising that the person speaking was not Addison. She cleared her throat and tried to adopt a sober voice as possible. "Is Addison there? … Who is this? Bitch-Shepherd? … What are you doing there? … Fuck you- that's a message. Fuck you. Fuck both of you."

Izzie threw her phone across the room with force, hearing it crack against the far wall. She didn't care. She couldn't honestly care.

"Woah, Iz, what was it?" George asked, putting an arm around her.

"Fucking McDreamy's sister. She answered. She's with Addison. Oh God," Izzie whimpered as tears started to fall fast down her cheeks. "Oh God."

"Iz, Iz," George soothed, kissing her forehead.

"It's my fault. If I'd only been more… Then again, I'm just the lodger," Izzie sobbed incoherently.

"So you and Addison…"

"Over," Izzie uttered with a horrible moment of realisation. "If she's with _her_. Then it's over."

George and Izzie sat together for a while, leaning against each other's warm body and said nothing. George's heart was pounding, Izzie's was breaking.

"I wouldn't be ashamed of you," George whispered softly, breaking the silence.

"It's different, George," Izzie sighed, her head in her knees.

"I mean it. I wouldn't be ashamed of you," he smiled gently. "I'd—I'd parade you around everywhere. Not like a trophy," he corrected quickly. "Just as the woman I love. And… And I'd kiss you every chance I got. And my mom already loves you. And my dad loved you. And we'd have a big wedding. With everyone there. So I could stand up and tell everyone just how much I love you, and would never hurt, and promise to be with you for the rest of my life…"

"George!" Izzie exclaimed, staring at him. "You're talking about Callie, right?"

"No, Iz," he murmured, pushing tangles of her hair behind her ear. "I'm talking about you. I love you. Always have," he shrugged, smiling warmly.

"George," Izzie hissed warningly, as she gripped his face in her hand. "Stop talking."

"I love you, Iz. And I can't help saying it more now I've said it once," George told her sincerely, searching her eyes for any flicker of his love being requited. He took hold of her hand and loosened the grip on his face. "And I can't take it back now.

"George," Izzie whispered, shaking her head. He hesitantly slid a hand into her hair, turning her face up.

"Izzie. I love you," he told her, moving to kiss her—

--

"Addison. You said you needed more than a friend tonight," Lizzie started, as she opened the door to her hotel suite.

"I said that. I did," Addison mumbled, walking a weaving pattern until she reached Elizabeth's bed.

"I don't know if you mean it," Elizabeth said slowly, closing the door and bracing her back against it.

"I absolutely meant it," Addison nodded fervently, patting the bed beside her.

"Good," Elizabeth nodded, but she did not yield to Addison's invitation to sit down. "But there's something I should make clear."

"What?" Addison asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not into girls anymore?"

"I can't have just one night with you, Addy," Elizabeth said quickly. "I can't. Months ago, when I tried to get you back the intention was not to have a one night stand with you and it never has been. It's been nearly sixteen years since we broke up and I still want you more than I ever have. I still love you."

"Well. You don't care that I'm not out to my family," Addison joked, running a hand through her hair. "Do we have to talk about this tonight?"

"I need to know you're not just trying to get back at Izzie."

"I'm not," Addison told her firmly, trying to convince herself as much as Lizzie. "I miss you as well. I remember how it was when we were together," Addison said as she swayed. She was having trouble focusing. _'It shouldn't be this hard,_' she told herself.

"OK," Lizzie sighed, relaxing a little. "Just about us."

She moved forward and slid onto the bed beside Addison. Reaching out, Elizabeth caressed Addison's face softly, remembering the last time she properly had the chance to do this.

"Just. About. Us," Addison nodded, swallowing, as she moved in for a kiss—


	6. Broken: VI

"_George," Izzie whispered, shaking her head. He hesitantly slid a hand into her hair, turning her face up._

"_Izzie. I love you," he told her, moving to kiss her—_

_--_

_She moved forward and slid onto the bed beside Addison. Reaching out, Elizabeth caressed Addison's face softly, remembering the last time she properly had the chance to do this._

"_Just. About. Us," Addison nodded, swallowing, as she moved in for a kiss—_

"It's not just about us," Addison murmured into Elizabeth's lips. Millimetres away from kissing her, Addison recoiled. "It's not about us. Izzie. It's about Izzie. And me. _That_ us. That's who I have an 'us' with."

"Addy," Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head. "You can't do this."

"I'm sorry. I don't want to be doing this, I'm sorry Lizzie. I'm not this person anymore. I'm just… Incredibly drunk. But sober enough to know who I love."

"Addy. Let it be just a kiss," Elizabeth reasoned. "Forget what I said before. I'm this close… It's just a kiss."

"It's never just a kiss," Addison shook her head vehemently. "You and I are long, long over. And I really don't feel well—" Addison trailed off as she bolted off the bed and into the en-suite.

Elizabeth gripped the edge of the mattress, cursing at herself. She was interrupted by the vibrations of Addison's cell from inside her bag. Calling through to Addison, the only response she received were loud groans.

So she reached inside the bag, flipping open the cell.

"Hello? … She's indisposed at the moment," Elizabeth said tactfully, listening to the horrific retching sounds from the bathroom. "It's Elizabeth… I'm just helping out a friend… You want to leave a message?"

Elizabeth held the phone gingerly away from her ear as if it may bite and hung up when she heard the dial tone.

"Addy? You OK?"

Addison reappeared, flushed and leaned in the doorframe.

"Lizzie, I'm sorry. I came here to sleep with you tonight," Addison sighed, wiping her mouth with a tissue. "For all the wrong reasons. It was callous and thoughtless. I'm sorry."

"What if you and Izzie are actually over, Addison?" Elizabeth asked, lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Then we're over," Addison choked out. "But I won't be an 'us' with anyone else for a long time."

"Right."

"Did you really want this to happen, like this? Under these circumstances?" Addison asked Elizabeth. The brunette said nothing and continued to stare above. "Elizabeth…"

"I'm fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Go."

"Lizzie."

"Addy. Will you just – Go?" Elizabeth requested firmly, doing her utmost best not to break down in tears.

Addison nodded silently and left the room. Once Elizabeth was sure that Addison was out of earshot, she turned over and let out the sob she has been repressing.

--

"I want to forget," Izzie murmured, feeling George inches away from her. "I need to forget."

George paused. It was his rational, compassionate side which afforded him the pause. He knew inside that Izzie wasn't in this and she didn't really want or need to kiss him. But his ragingly drunk and lustful side would not allow him another second to talk his way out of kissing Izzie, not when he was this close.

So he leaned forward. And he kissed her. He kissed her not so she would forget, but so she could see him for who he was. He was George. He used to live down the hall. He had laid with her on a cold bathroom floor and felt nothing but all consuming love for this girl.

The weaker, rational part of George knew that even though she was physically kissing him back, her heart wasn't. Her anger, her pain and her high blood alcohol level was kissing him.

She wasn't his to kiss.

And it was then she pulled back, holding her hand over her mouth in horror.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, hating himself for apologising for what he wanted.

Izzie didn't say a word. She clumsily staggered up, kicking over empty bottles in the process, and bolted up the stairs to the bathroom, locking the door.

It was here she lay on the comforting coldness of the floor. Something so old and so familiar. It calmed her and soothed her and made her numb to the mass of complicated feelings multiplying inside of her.

It wasn't long before she passed out, grateful to slip into uninterrupted silent bliss.

--

Addison Montgomery was lying on the couch, staring at the surrounding unopened boxes and sipping gently from a glass of water. It was afternoon and she hadn't moved from this spot since she crawled in last night. Her head was swimming, her stomach was killing her and she couldn't stand up without getting dizzy. She could get up and set up the TV so she'd have something to stare at. But that would involve moving. And any movement would be a very bad idea at the moment.

She wondered if these boxes would ever be opened.

Interrupting her thought was the sound of a key turning in the lock. She tried to sit up, but then convinced herself that she'd heard nothing.

When the quiet footsteps padded through the hall and to the kitchen, she knew Izzie had come back to her, or she was being burgled. She really ought to know either way.

Izzie turned to see Addison shuffling through the hallway delicately and her insides shredded.

"Addison," Izzie murmured, biting her lip.

Izzie looked as bad as Addison felt. Pale skin, dark eyes and the look of concentration that came hand in hand with trying to keep vomit down. Despite all this, Addison thought this was the best thing she'd ever seen.

"Iz," Addison whispered, fighting to choke down a rising sob. With tears in her eyes, she wrapped her arms around Izzie's neck and buried herself in the blonde hair. "Izzie, Izzie, please don't leave."

"I'm not leaving," Izzie replied with some difficulty, holding Addison tightly. She breathed out, feeling more and more horrible by the moment. She hated and adored when Addison was so delicate like this.

"I'm so sorry," Addison sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Me too," Izzie said numbly. "I called you."

"I didn't get it, I wish I had. I've been in pieces all night," Addison told her, pulling back to kiss Izzie's mouth.

Izzie stopped her, placing a hand over the red heads lips. "Elizabeth answered."

Addison's hold on Izzie slackened for a moment before she held Izzie's face to her tightly. "Nothing happened. Honestly. Nothing happened. Not even a kiss."

Izzie pushed away, feeling sick. She held onto the counter, doubling over, tears flooding her eyes.

"Honest to God, Izzie. Nothing happened," Addison enforced, panicked. "Nothing. Honestly, it was the intention. But I stopped. I promise you."

"I thought…" Izzie started before her voice faded away.

"I wouldn't. I told you I wouldn't hurt you like that and I meant it. When you left, I just lost myself," Addison explained, rushed. "I'll never see her again. I promise, OK?"

Izzie didn't respond, feeling more terrible than she already did.

"Izzie, I promise. And anything I have to do, I'll do. I will not lose you," Addison told her steadily.

"OK," Izzie nodded, closing her eyes briefly.

"OK," Addison smiled slowly, placing her hands on Izzie's hips. "I just want to forget. Forget that all happened."

Izzie shuddered as shivers of déjà vu travelled down her spine. She nodded quickly. "I want to forget it too."

"OK, then we'll forget," Addison sighed, embracing Izzie carefully. "We'll just forget."

Izzie breathed deeply, guilty tears stinging her eyes.

"Where did you go?" Addison asked. "George and Meredith's?"

Izzie nodded, not able to speak.

"Are you tired?" Addison asked, studying Izzie's demeanour. She caressed her girlfriend's face with a concerned expression.

"Very."

"Come on," Addison whispered, taking Izzie's hand. "Something we didn't get to do yet."

Addison started to take her upstairs, both of them too tired and too ill to move very quickly.

"What do you mean?"

"Sleep in our bed. Let's sleep in our bed," Addison replied with a faint but content smile.

Izzie nodded wordlessly, and allowed herself to be taken away.

--

They had ordered many pieces of furniture from catalogues, others from specialist shops. They'd all arrived in the week leading up to their moving day so they'd be in place. One piece of furniture Addison certainly didn't want to transfer from the Brownstone to Seattle was her and Derek's bed. That bed had bad juju. The marriage bed of dwindling happiness and location for her and Mark's slip which turned into a full blown affair after Derek had left her. That bed deserved to be burned in the ninth level of Hell.

Not a happy bed with happy memories.

They'd got a fresh new bed for all new memories from a quaint woodwork carving shop Downtown. They'd picked the most beautifully intricate design and Addison had delivered and made it up a few days before they moved. Because, the way Moving Day was supposed to end was that after hours of room christening sex and perhaps some unpacking, there would be nothing more either of them wanted to do that collapse into their brand new bed.

"Iz," Addison whispered, stroking a sleeping Izzie's cheek. "This was nothing. This was just a fight. We'll have fights. And we'll disagree. And maybe you'll walk out again for a while. But I'll always be waiting the next morning. I won't leave. And I won't cheat. And I won't lie to you. And I love you."

Addison didn't know quite what she expected from Izzie's still form, but nothing came anyway. Izzie lay, and slept but Addison hoped that some of it was heard. Smiling bizarrely to herself that she was talking to someone who wasn't listening, she shook her head and leaned over to kiss Izzie good night.

--

When Izzie woke the next morning, she remembered nothing of the days before. Gradually, words and sounds, bodies and smashing, images and alcohol all came flooding back to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling guilt gnaw at her empty stomach. Those few moments of forgetful bliss when she woke up in the morning would be her solace for the coming days ahead. And with time, she hoped, the pain would dull. The thought that she'd kissed someone other than Addison was almost too much to bear.

Yesterday, she'd been numb. She'd come back with a heavy conscience and the hangover from Hell. The hangover helped her deal with the guilt in the first place. It was something to focus on, something else to feel bad about. Rather than the events of the night before on Meredith's kitchen floor.

Maybe she should just have a hangover every day. That might work for a while. But, Izzie concluded, that would mean getting really drunk every night which was a) impossible and immoral for a surgical resident who straddled the line between saving lives and losing them; and b) the problem in the first place.

She would just have to cope. She would get up, and follow the smell of frying bacon to the kitchen, kiss her girlfriend good morning and have a cup of coffee. Small steps, one at a time. She could cope.

--

A few hours later and Izzie had barely spoken a full sentence to Addison as they meandered through the boxes. Addison would hold the latest unpacked item in the air and Izzie would respond in a few words where she thought it should go.

Addison was upbeat and excited about this chapter in their new lives while Izzie could barely stop her head pounding. She was afraid that if she said anymore than a few words, the truth would fall tumbling out and she wouldn't see that smile of Addison's for a long while.

She was wrestling with the decision to tell Addison or not. Technically, Izzie had broken up with her. She wasn't cheating. And she was incredibly drunk. And it was just a kiss. Nothing more. And it didn't even last that long.

Did it even count as something Addison should know?

Izzie's guilt answered that question – Why would she feel so hollowed out over something which 'didn't matter'?

"Izzie, do you want your pictures on the mantle or by the window? Maybe in the dining room?" Addison asked, studying the framed childhood photos of a little blonde girl.

"Where ever," Izzie breathed out, rubbing her forehead.

"What?" Addison enquired, not hearing.

"The mantel," Izzie corrected. "Will be fine."

"OK," Addison nodded, giving her a worried look.

It was happening. Izzie's behaviour, so strange and so distant and oft rude, was becoming noticeable. And Addison was going to start asking questions. Izzie didn't know if her mouth would betray her mind and tell Addison exactly what she didn't want to hear.

Before Addison had a chance, Izzie's pager went off, vibrating against her hip.

"Hospital," Izzie said automatically, running upstairs to change and grab her scrubs.

Addison watched after Izzie, more confused than before. Was Elizabeth on her mind? Did she not believe her when she said that nothing had happened? Didn't Izzie trust her?

--

It was a week to the day from when they stepped through the threshold of their new home that Izzie and Addison went back at work. Both were silently, deeply grateful to be striding through the halls of Seattle Grace with purpose again. The past week had been spent in a rather uncomfortable state of forced busy-ness. Izzie stripping, painting, decorating, arranging and rearranging like a woman possessed. Addison had watched her go about their home in tattered denims looking very flustered as she seemed to be in a constant state of indecision.

Addison had offered to help, of course. Picking up a roller or the phone when it seemed like the next task might just be too much for Izzie to handle. But she had quickly discovered that this whirlwind incarnate which masqueraded as her girlfriend attacked any job or mission she assigned herself with solid gusto and unwavering determination. Izzie completed it with a ruthlessness and almost surgical precision; carrying out her careful plan to exact detail. Addison felt that she was in the way more than anything else.

So most of the time, she left Izzie to it. After the third or fourth time of Izzie rejected her offer of help, Addison decided it must be a lost cause and went in search of her own mission.

Try as she did, there was no job which could take her mind off the way Izzie was behaving and the way things were between them. They'd barely been intimate since that night and certainly hadn't made love. Addison tried her damndest to convince herself that there was no problem and Izzie was just exhausted from her one week complete overhaul of their house

_It's the stress of moving in together – I shouldn't expect the same fabric ripping passion we had enjoyed in the days before we'd spent every waking moment for a week together, right? Right?_ Addison queried herself incessantly. But there was nothing to be worried about. Addison knew herself that a week really wasn't a long time.

But when you haven't had sex with your new live-in girlfriend – a week was a _really _long time.

--

"Hey Iz," Meredith smiled benignly, leaning back on her locker. "I'm surprised you still have the ability to walk after a week flat on your back. You guys have a _lot_ of rooms in that place."

"Oh yeah," Cristina laughed. "Sure a week was long enough? We can cover for another, if you need."

"It was fine," Izzie breathed out, looping her stethoscope round her neck.

"You and Burke didn't have far to go," Meredith pointed out, waving a banana at Cristina. "I mean, bedroom, bathroom sure. But did you split the kitchen and lounge into two separate 'christening' rooms?"

"Of course," Cristina scoffed. "Actually, we split it into kitchen, lounge and hall. Basically we did it up against the door. And the coat closet. You gotta get your mileage. I love the apartment, but it's not really on the same scale as the Montgomery-Stevens maisonette, y'know?"

Izzie swallowed and gave them a pale smile before departing from the locker room. At the door, she bumped into George. She quickly recovered, saying nothing and swerving like a car round a deer.

George looked after her wistfully before shrugging off his coat and pulling on his scrubs.

"Izzie seems… quiet," Meredith mused.

"Exhausted basically," Cristina shrugged.

"Maybe Addison broke her," Meredith suggested, chucking her banana peel in the trash.

"Addison broke up with Izzie?" George asked sharply, his eyes darting back and forth between the two friends.

"No…" Meredith said slowly. "They just moved in together, why would they break up?"

"They wouldn't," he recovered quickly. "Wouldn't break up. Not Izzie and… and… I just thought you said…"

"She meant that Addison had _house_broken Izzie," Cristina supplied. "Y'know, with lots of sex."

George opened his mouth and paused before shutting it again, not able to think of a single non-stupid thing to say. He sighed and closed his locker over, leaving for rounds.

"What's up with Bambi?" Alex asked, arriving late but seeing George power walk out of the changing rooms.

"You're late. And nothing, he's fine," Cristina told him.

"He's probably upset about Izzie moving out still," Meredith wondered aloud. "Especially after what happened with Callie."

--

"Addison, sooo good to have you back," Callie moaned, laughing as she greeted her friend. "Solid Burke-Shepherd-Sloane crap for the past week with no one with ovaries to turn to. Apart from Bailey and she's practically asexual anyway."

"So you didn't actually _miss_ me – I'm just here to make up the numbers," Addison replied, eyebrow raised.

"Totally," Callie nodded, embracing Addison. "So how is everything? The house – How's it looking? All unpacked? When am I coming around for cocktails?"

"House is gorgeous," Addison nodded, taking the offered coffee cup. "Izzie has completely transformed the place. It's incredible. All of it. In a week. Looks like we've been there for years."

"Doing your own décor, Ms Montgomery? Surely not fitting of a blue blood," Callie joked, adopting a ridiculous voice.

"Not me – Izzie. I barely did anything," Addison corrected. "She did it all."

"She and a burly team of testosterone riddled work men?"

"No. Just she," Addison said slowly. "I haven't seen her the past week for the blur of blonde hair. She's been… Busy."

"Are you dumping her?" Callie asked quickly. "Cause if you are, my 'Angry ex's of interns' club is looking for new membership. Might squeeze you in."

"I'm not leaving her," Addison rolled her eyes.

"Ah. Well. I was lying about the club," Callie joked softly. "A tiny bit lying. So is busy code for 'freaking out' or what?"

"She's not freaking out," Addison said quietly, punching her fingernail around the rim of the Styrofoam cup.

"But she's…"

"Mad. She's mad at me," Addison sighed, looking sadly to Callie. "I never told my parents about her. They show up on the doorstep. I lied. A lot. What was I supposed to do?"

"There's really not a handbook for that kind of thing."

"No. There absolutely is not," Addison groaned.

"So you worked it out. She can't stay mad forever," Callie shrugged.

"We had a huge fight. A manic fight. She threw most of the china," Addison told Callie, pushing her hair back roughly. "And she left. Said it was over."

"So you did what most people do when your relationship is over – you slept with someone else?" Callie guessed.

"Except I didn't. I was going to—But I didn't," Addison said vehemently. "Remember Elizabeth? Derek's sister?"

"You went to the east coast to have rebound sex?" Callie asked, eyebrows arched.

"No. She was in town."

"Lucky. Saves on air fares."

"Funny. I went to Elizabeth's hotel to get ridiculous drunk and judging from the state of her the next morning, Iz went to George and Meredith's to drink a vat of wine."

"Izzie was with George?" Callie asked suspiciously.

"Anyway, the point _is_ that I didn't. I did not have rebound sex. I stopped myself. I didn't even kiss her," Addison said pointedly.

"So she's mad because you were going to?"

"I don't know which part she's angry about. Or if it's something different entirely. We haven't talked or laughed or been together in a week," Addison gritted her teeth in frustration. "We've been in the same place. Just no where near each other."

"Talk," Callie urged gently.

"We won't have anymore plates," Addison sighed.

"Talk," she urged firmly.

--

It was an hour until Izzie's shift finished and with the way things were going on the hospital, she might actually leave on time. Addison's days were a lot shorter than Izzie's but she always stayed around until Izzie was done so they could go home together.

Rubbing her eyes, she tried to push her pen in squiggles across the paper but could not will herself to do more work when she was so ridiculously distracted.

She was broken out of her boredom by the shrill ringing of the telephone.

"Dr Montgomery speaking," Addison said, clearing her throat.

"Addison, it's Marie."

"Marie," Addison replied, surprised. Marie Harington was the Director of the Board at New York Presbyterian hospital, where she, Derek and Mark had worked. Seemed like a lifetime ago. She had done her residency there, moved for her fellowship and research but came straight back as soon as an Attending spot opened for her. Marie had taken Addison's decision to move across the country badly, but understood as she was fighting for her marriage.

As Addison recalled, Marie had offered her double of what Seattle Grace was to keep her. But back then, Addison had no other option than to try with Derek.

Addison could only wonder what it was that Marie wanted from her.

"How have you been?" Addison asked, trying to smother the surprised tone in her voice.

"Oh, you know," Marie coughed. She was always one to avoid personal questions. "Are you missing the city yet?"

"Of course I miss New York," Addison scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "It's home… It's…"

"It's New York. And you're on a farm somewhere in the developing world," Marie replied sardonically.

"I'm in Seattle. It's pretty civilised," Addison told her, rolling her eyes. "There are cabs and bars and sick people."

"You're not in Manhattan, so you might as well be in Guatemala," Marie droned. "Which is why I'm calling."

"Guatemala?"

"I heard you and Derek got divorced."

"From who?"

"Mark Sloane."

"Of course," Addison nodded. "You and he were always… close."

"As were you," Marie shot back.

"Were. Operative word being were."

"Anyhow. That's not the point. I'm calling because Collins has just resigned. Stress, apparently. Needs to save his marriage, apparently. Wants more time to watch his children grow up, apparently."

"Oh, that's ter—"

"The bad thing is that he's given us barely any time to shortlist candidates, go through a lengthy process of interviewing and appointing," Marie continued. "The good thing is that there was one name on the collective boardroom's lips when we were discussing this. And his insanely short notice just makes it easier to cut all the crap and offer you the job."

"What?" Addison half-snorted, not sure she was quite deciphering the meaning of Marie's monologue.

"We're offering you Chief, Addison. Chief of surgery at New York Presbyterian. With a disgustingly large salary. The chance to come home to Manhattan. To wear good shoes and have hot running water. Walk on proper sidewalks instead of a dirt track and take out your anger on passers by like the New Yorker you are," Marie pitched.

Addison rolled her eyes again. "Dirt track? Have you been reading the colonial era Zaggots guide?"

"Dr Addison Montgomery. Chief of surgery. How does that sound?" Marie tempted.

"Sounds good," Addison admitted begrudgingly, her head spinning. This was all a bit hard to take in. She undid the top button of her shirt as her chest suddenly felt very hot. "But I… I have… Marie, I'm going to have to call you back. Later. In a few days. Once this is processed."

"Tomorrow, Addison. But once it's 'processed', I hope you're going to give me the answer I want," Marie told her warningly.

"I'll call you," Addison said slowly, flapping her hand in front of her face for a faint breeze.

"We'll be waiting," Marie promised, as she hung up the phone.

Addison replaced the phone in the cradle slowly and leaned back in her chair.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This was sudden. Incredibly sudden… And she had to talk to Izzie about it.

Izzie.

Addison looked up at the clock, realising that Izzie's shift had finished. She grabbed her coat, shut off the light and paced quickly to the locker room.

--

"Izzie, I need to talk to you," George said, blocking Izzie's exit way from the lockers. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and stared at the clock on the wall.

"I'm really tired, George. Just wanna go home and sleep," Izzie smiled apologetically. "Later?"

"Not later. Now," George told her firmly. "_We_ need to talk."

"We don't really have to do anything," Izzie shrugged, half laughing.

He looked at her with disappointment and growing annoyance. "Izzie," he stressed. "We need to talk about what we're not talking about."

"There's nothing we're not talking about," Izzie told him, edging past.

"Izzie," he started, getting frustrated. "The other night. It's about what happened the other night," he said softly.

"George, nothing happened," Izzie lied, laughing it off. "There's nothing to discuss."

"Iz, that's not true. What happened between us--"

"George – Nothing happened. I drank the equivalent of a liquor store, if you remember. I _barely_ remember. I don't remember anything about _anything_ happening," Izzie hissed warningly, attempting to give George an 'out' to end all this.

"Iz… Not true," George countered, trying to take her hand. She shrugged him off, backing away.

"George. I don't remember," Izzie lied forcefully, holding her hands up, signalling for him to back off.

Addison Montgomery was at this very moment, standing by the door and wishing that she did not remember anything of this overheard conversation.

--

That night, Addison met Izzie down stairs by the door. Addison barely looked or spoke to Izzie the whole way home. Her conversation with Marie was intermingled in her head with the Izzie/George one. Her head hurt more than ever.

Later, as they silently got ready for bed, each standing on their side, she couldn't not talk anymore.

Addison broke the silence. "I've been offered a job."

Izzie's eyes snapped up and stared at her. "A job where?"

"New York Presbyterian. Chief of Surgery," Addison cleared her throat.

"Congratulations," Izzie responded in a hollow voice, climbing into bed. Addison sighed quietly, sliding in between the sheets.

They both switched of their lights and lay in the darkness – backs to each other, not touching and both staring off into the distance.

"Are you taking it?" Izzie struggled to say.

"I don't know," Addison replied, half lying. She knew she was going to take the job. She had to.

"It's a great opportunity at a fantastic hospital," Izzie said unenthusiastically.

"Do you want me to take it?" Addison asked, a hint of her passive aggressive self showing through.

"Do you want to take it?" Izzie countered, biting her tongue to stop her saying more.

"I don't know," Addison shrugged, pulling the sheets to her chin.

Addison struggled with herself, forcing herself not to weep openly and ask Izzie to beg her to stay. Instead, in a small whisper, she asked, "Izzie, do you love me?"

She felt Izzie's weight shifting and turning. Addison turned her head to see Izzie peering through the darkness.

"I love you," Izzie said softly. "Of course I love you."

"So why did you sleep with George?" Addison asked with great difficulty, closing her eyes so she couldn't see Izzie's reaction.

"I didn't sleep with George," Izzie told her vehemently.

"Are you lying to me?" The question stuck in her throat.

"No," Izzie said firmly, raising her voice.

"I heard you arguing. With George," Addison wavered.

Izzie fell flat. "He… He kissed me. The night I left, and you were with Elizabeth."

"Nothing happened with Elizabeth," Addison defended strongly, sitting up on her elbows and flicking on the light.

"I didn't know that," Izzie bit back, turning on her own light. "I called you and _she_ answered. What the Hell was I supposed to think?"

"So you kissed George?" Addison replied, as if it was the most obvious conclusion in the world.

"He kissed me. For like a second before I pushed him off," Izzie explained, pushing out of the bed and pacing the floor.

"And you never told me. You've been lying to me for a month," Addison accused, holding her knees to her chest.

"I didn't think you had to know," Izzie exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "It was nothing, it was actually nothing and I knew you'd just get upset over nothing."

"If it was actually nothing then why hide it?" Addison shot back. "Did you want to kiss him?"

"I didn't! It was just a kiss and it was just a second."

"Yet somehow this nothing is the reason we've barely touched or spoken in the past month, Izzie," Addison said, holding her hands over her eyes. "This was such a nothing that it's breaking us. Because you didn't tell me. I told you honestly what happened that night. I was going to… But I didn't. But I told you!"

"Addison wins again," Izzie rolled her eyes, hands on hips. "The mature one, the one who knows what to do all the time."

"Izzie," Addison groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're trying to make me angry so we won't have this conversation. We are having this conversation."

"Fine. I'm sorry. Sorry I lied, I thought it was best," Izzie snapped.

"You don't get to decide what's best!" Addison pointed out, frustrated. "Not for us. We're in this – we are in a relationship."

"I'm tired of fighting," Izzie mumbled, leaning against the wall.

"We've not been fighting. We've not been anything – since we moved in. Because of this thing you decided not to tell me about."

"Fine. It's all my fault," Izzie said, defeated.

"Izzie…" Addison started, sliding out of bed and over to Izzie's side.

"Are you going to take the job?" Izzie asked again, looking up.

Addison had no words. She leaned forward, slid her hand into Izzie's and pulled her back over to the bed. She spooned Izzie from behind and held her tightly.

And again, Izzie asked, "Are you going to take the job?"

Again, Addison said nothing. She kissed her neck and held on tighter.

--

The next day, Izzie had to leave for rounds at dawn. So it wasn't until later that she managed to corner Addison in the on-call room.

"Addy… Are you taking the job?"

Addison sighed and leaned back on the wall, head down. Izzie nodded, slowly, understanding.

"You already did…" she whispered, pushing her hair furiously behind her ears.

Addison nodded sadly. "I talked to them this morning. I could start as interim chief post. For twelve weeks, while they appoint someone else. It gives me a boost for getting Chief _here_ and I thought that would…"

"Three months," Izzie chewed. "So… Is three months a long time for you? Or short?"

"Long… But doable," she added.

"And what happens if you love it there and they still want you at the end of it?"

"Izzie…"

"And someone else gets Chief here. What will you do then?"

"Maybe I'll hate being Chief."

"Who are you kidding? You'll love being Chief."

"Come with me," Addison broke in.

"Addy…"

"NY Pres. has an outstanding surgical programme. If your girlfriend's the Chief, I'm sure we could fit you in," Addison urged, taking hold of both of Izzie's hands.

"I'm a resident _here_. I have… everything _here,_" Izzie replied. "You think moving to New York will solve anything? It'll make things worse."

"In three months, we'll probably only see each other once, twice if we're lucky. It's not like we can fly in every weekend," Izzie told her honestly. "I never get time off and I'm guessing you'll be lucky to breathe fresh air once a week."

"But this is doable," Addison enforced.

"I know this is important," Izzie sighed, leaning her head back. "But the timing couldn't be worse. You're running away."

"I am not," Addison defended, crossing her arms. "I asked you to come with me."

"Because you knew I'd say no," Izzie said quietly. "Because I'd have to say no. I'm not you, Addison. I don't have hospitals chasing after me, throwing cash at me and wooing me all over the country. I'm just starting out. Moving somewhere would set me back completely. I'd be an army brat."

"So your career comes first," Addison surmised.

"Apparently yours does, or you would've turned the offer down straight off," Izzie argued. "I know this is an amazing opportunity and I know doing this will help a lot in the race for Seattle Grace, but you're leaving me. For three months. Right now. When things are so…"

"Broken," Addison finished.

"And they can't get fixed when you're staring at the ocean on the other side. So. Maybe. We should just…" Izzie trailed off.

"Izzie stop. I'll call them back, I'll get out of the contract," Addison dismissed. "We are not giving up. I'm not giving up."

"No. Go to New York," Izzie said, swallowing hard. "That's obviously what you want or need or whatever. Go. And we'll… take some time apart. To think. And grow. And whatever else kinda crap. It might be good for us."

"No, Izzie, that is not an option," Addison told her, getting more frustrated. She wanted to scream, yell, bang her fist off the wall. _This wasn't an option._

"You must have known this is how it would be if you took the job. There's no way it can work miles apart with no hope of seeing each other anytime soon. You are running and I don't blame you. We're so angry and I hate that. It shouldn't be like this." She sighed deeply, shaking her head and hating herself for saying what she was saying. "Do the interim thing. And if you come back, I'll be here. And we can start fresh."

"Iz…" Addison murmured, falling flat.

"This will be OK."

"I'll come back," Addison promised, taking Izzie into her arms.

Izzie sighed. Tried to let herself go and enjoy being in Addison's embrace again. Why was it like this? It wasn't supposed to be like this. They loved each other, they were clearly in love. When did it get so difficult?

Addison whispered promises into Izzie's skin, kissing her hair and face over and over again. She promised she loved her and her alone. She promised this wouldn't break them. She promised that she would come back

Izzie wasn't so sure.


	7. Separation: VII

_11 months later_

"It's awesome. Have you heard?" George asked excitedly, grinding to a halt at the nurses station.

"Heard what?" Cristina replied, uninterested at his child-like enthusiasm.

"There's a pregnant _conjoined twin_ heading over here!" he squealed. "Like conjoined twins and one of them is pregnant!"

Cristina spun around, nearly knocking her chart over. "You're kidding? Is it just a C-Section? Or do we get to separate them? Or do we do both?"

"I don't know, but I am so getting on OB-GYN," George affirmed. Alex scoffed, flipping his chart shut.

"Yeah, right, O'Malley. You're forgetting your pathetic history with the vagina squad. Which doesn't say much for your sex life," he grinned, hitting George on the shoulder with the metal chart. George furrowed his brow and rubbed his arm. "I'll be on Gyney. Sad to say, I'm good at it. The master and commander of the vaginas. So I'll be taking that freak surgery while you sit up in the gallery trying to remember which end the baby's supposed to come out of. Plus, you're oncology nowadays. None of these chicks have cancer, man."

Cristina laughed involuntarily and then shook her head. "He's right, you blow at OB." She paused for a moment, looking around. "Maybe one of them has a heart defect? I'd love it if one of them has a murmur. Or previous thoracic surgery. I'd _have_ to be in there."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with their hearts," George said slowly.

"Great!" Cristina snorted sarcastically. "Perfectly freaking healthy hearts."

"I'll go suck up to Cabot. She's gotta let me in on it," Alex told himself more than anyone else. "I slept with her after all. She owes me this."

"Dr Cabot's not doing the surgery," George shook his head. "That was the other thing… Dr Montgomery's flying in to do it."

"Addison Montgomery?" Meredith echoed, coming up to join her fellow residents. "What's happening with Addison?"

"There's an incredible surgery, and Addison's flying in. Because apparently we're all just idiots next to her," Alex half mumbled, folding his arms.

"Pregnant conjoined twin," George said, crossing his eyebrows. "You want the best."

"Plus, didn't Webber make her sign a clause when she left here permanently that allowed us to call her back for something like this? Something huge which could boost the hospital's profile?" Cristina asked to no one in particular. They all nodded solemnly because this was a well known fact.

Meredith looked towards their fellow blonde-haired resident wandering down to get a coffee. She gestured towards her. "Does she know?"

"I don't think so."

"She knew she'd probably be back at some point," Cristina said, chewing her lip. Izzie, seemingly lost in her own world, didn't notice all four of them studying her intently.

"It's nearly been a year," George dismissed. "She's fine. I mean, she'll be fine. Do you think it's fine?"

"No," Cristina said bluntly.

"She's absolutely not going to be fine," Meredith said gravely.

"Should we tell her?" George asked reluctantly, jamming his hands in his coat pockets.

"Yes."

"No," Cristina answered, at the same time as Meredith. "Aw come on. We'll tell her just _before _Montgomery gets here. That way she won't be freaking out for days."

"Are you kidding? You wanna tell her right before Addison walks through the door?" Meredith spat, shocked at Cristina's ridiculously bad logic.

"Well, her going crazy for a while will be a lot worse than if she hasn't washed her hair in three days when she finally sees her."

"What? In which world is that better?" Meredith asked incredulously. Meredith forced herself to bite her lip instead of asking 'What if Burke came back?' but knew this was no time to equate the two ex-couples.

"Hey, maybe you're making this out to be bigger that it is," George said quietly. "Izzie's moved on—Well. She's moved, at least."

"Shut up, George. You don't get a say in this," Meredith snapped, full well knowing the tension he had caused between Izzie and Addison. Everyone in the hospital knew the 'tension' he caused in their relationship. He really wasn't the best judge in this situation.

"No, he's right. Izzie's moved. She's dating. She's dating that.. that.." Cristina trailed off, snapping her fingers, trying to remember the name.

"Rebecca," Alex supplied. "Or 'Becki'," he added in air quotes.

"Right. Becki," Cristina said. "Becki. Izzie and Becki."

"They've been together, like, three months," Meredith rolled her eyes. "Do any of you actually think Izzie wouldn't drop her like a stone if Addison came back?"

They all stared downwards, avoiding Meredith's icy glare.

"And does anyone think it's anything _other_ than a rebound thing?" she asked them all, hands on hips.

Again they all avoided Meredith's eyes.

"Actually, Izzie seems to really—" George piped up before Meredith pointed a finger at him.

"Shut up, George. You don't get a say," she reiterated, settling her hands on her hips again. "We need to tell her."

"I still vote for Cristina's plan. It'll only upset her sooner," George mumbled. "Even if I don't get a vote."

"So? She'll be upset either way," Meredith retorted.

"I second that," Alex nodded. "I vote for not fucking her up before we have to."

"Three against one, Mer. Are we agreed?" Cristina asked her friend.

"Whatever," Meredith sighed, frustrated. "You guys clearly have the emotional intelligence of a sofa cushion. But whatever. Go with your plan. As insane as it is. And when it blows up – Not my idea! Because it's insane."

"When's Addison getting here?" Cristina shot at George, ignoring Meredith's warnings.

"Chief said three days… So Tuesday?" George guessed.

"OK. We'll tell her Tuesday morning," Cristina decided.

--

Izzie shifted over on the on-call room mattress. She always found it difficult to sleep in here. She tried to avoid it as much as possible, but all the other possible beds were taken and she was on a double shift. She could've dropped dead in the hallway from exhaustion but she could not shut her eyes in this room.

Inside this room, she was completely awake. However, as soon as she stepped outside, she knew she would be tempted to sleep against a wall.

She lashed out at her pillow, punching it into various shapes, blaming it for the fact she couldn't get any sleep.

It wasn't the pillow. That much was obvious.

She swore aloud, and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

She scolded herself for still thinking about _her_. Izzie didn't let herself think about her. But this room seemed to hold the magic key to unlock all of Izzie's best and worst memories.

And every time she remembered, or reminisced, or even missed _her_, Izzie felt incredibly bad. It wasn't right. She was starting something fresh and new. She should not be thinking of the woman who left her for a bigger salary and comfier chair.

That wasn't even true, but it helped Izzie to think this. It helped her to think that _that woman_ was cold and heartless and would choose her career over Izzie.

It wasn't true, Izzie knew in her heart of hearts. But sometimes the only way to get over someone was to hate them as much as humanly possible. Hating Her was hard. Sometimes it hurt Izzie to hate Her so much. But in order to keep putting one foot in front of the other and _not_ collapse in a heap in the OR and sob like a child, a little hate was necessary.

Izzie didn't Hate her. But she was still so excruciatingly angry at Her. And it didn't seem very difficult to fuel one emotion with the other.

Sighing, she sat up, slipped on her shoes and trudged out the room to find another place to rest her head.

--

"So how long will you be?" Dr Bennett asked, leaning in his Chief's doorway.

"About five minutes," Addison murmured, not looking up from her paper. A day when Toby Bennett didn't come to harass her when she was in the middle of something important would be a day passed by without event.

"I didn't mean now," Toby laughed, coming in uninvited and taking a seat. "I meant in Seattle."

Addison dropped her pen, leaning back in her chair. The gossip mill here wasn't quite up to the same high standards set by Seattle Grace. It sometimes took an extra few days for the rumours to cycle as opposed to the nought-to-sixty minutes uptake at Seattle. A small part of her found it somewhat disappointing.

"Not long," she shook her head. "Two days. Three at most if I stick around for post-op, which in this case would be wise. Of course, if there are complications then…"

"Then you might have a whole week to catch up with your ex-husband and ex-affair," Toby smirked, leaning back and folding his hands across his chest.

"Yeah," Addison snorted.

"Not looking forward to seeing them? There might be time enough to engage in a naughty three-way before you get a flight back to the real world," Bennett snarked.

"It's remarkable that the only thing interesting about this trip to most people is that my ex-husband and ex-whatever will be there. _Not_ the fact I'll be performing a landmark delivery," Addison drawled sarcastically.

"That's the reason soaps get higher numbers than the documentary shows," Toby pointed out. "So, uh, what were their names again? Shepherd and Sloane, right?"

"Yes, Derek and Mark," Addison nodded. "It'll be nice to see them.. But they'll be no—"

"Because you're still in love with me," Toby finished, kicking his legs up on her table with a triumphant flourish.

"Hardly," Addison rolled her eyes, swatting his feet from her desk.

"Sure you are. Fancy a drink tonight?"

"No. I will never 'fancy a drink'. Or fancy you," Addison told him with a high degree of finality in her voice.

"Pity," he sighed, staring at her. "I'm really good in bed."

Addison laughed nervously, standing up to put a file in her cabinet. "How nice for you."

"What? You don't even wanna find out if I'm lying?" he asked, acting hurt.

"You're always lying. Mystery solved," Addison shot back.

"Maybe not this time," he suggested flirtatiously.

"No!" Addison told him firmly, unable to contain her laughter. "Get out, Bennett. I'm very busy and important."

"Right-o, boss," he said stiffly, mock saluting her. He crossed to the door, before pausing and looking back. "If it's not Derek or Mark – Then why don't you want to go back?"

"What?"

"Well. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but it seems like you don't really want to go back. Only thing I can think is that you left on bad terms with someone. First two people that pop in my head are the husband and the boyfriend," Toby explained. "So if not them, then who? You left another broken-hearted blue-eyed boy there that you've not told me about?"

"I tell you nothing. You get all your info from gossip," Addison told him pointedly.

"Well, am I wrong or am I wrong?" he asked, holding out his arms.

"Dr Bennett. Please go and help some sick people. Please do what I pay you for," Addison commanded wearily.

He turned around to obey her with a triumphant and intrigued expression on his face.

--

After her double shift, Izzie could enjoy a rare day off on Sunday. And she enjoyed this in bed with her girlfriend.

"We're not getting out of bed today are we?" Becki asked, peering at the clock. It was past midday already.

"No," Izzie replied, her voice muffled by the duvet. "Never getting out of bed again."

Izzie opened her eyes slowly to see Becki curled up next to her. Izzie smiled. She often forgot how nice life could feel.

"I could go rent us some movies. Get some food. We wouldn't have to leave," Becki offered.

"You don't have to," Izzie yawned, reaching over to touch Becki's arm. "You met me at 5 this morning when I finished. You must be exhausted too."

"I slept first though," Becki pointed out. "I wasn't saving lives and cutting people open and cracking chests."

"Too. Much. E.R," Izzie snorted.

She leaned over to kiss Izzie quickly before pulling on whichever clothes were lying on the floor. "Any movie you want?"

"How bout the one with the hot teacher who comes back to bed and makes out with the hot surgeon?" Izzie teased, trying to pull at Becki's hand but she was too far away.

"You want porn? And 'makes out'? That's all you're offering me?" Becki shook her head in dismay.

"Maybe," Izzie smiled, pushing her hair back. "And you can go to the video store afterwards."

"Maybe," Becki grinned, diving back into bed and sealing her mouth over Izzie's.

--

Packing her suitcase for Seattle, Addison's gaze kept drifting to the phone. The same questions kept running through her mind. Should she call or shouldn't she call Izzie? Did Izzie still love her? Does Izzie still hate her?

Addison sat on the bed, staring at the phone and waited for a sign. Shortly thereafter, she gave up, realising she was being ridiculous.

She took a deep breath and thought about this carefully: What the Hell would she actually say?

Considering the terrible way that she and Izzie had broken up, Addison guessed that the last thing Izzie wanted was another phone call from her.

--

"Iz?" Addison asked, as the phone picked up on the other end.

"Hey you!" Izzie replied brightly.

"Hey," Addison said quietly as she rubbed her temples.

"So where do I get you? What time are you getting in?" Izzie queried, looking over to her calendar. "It's tomorrow. It is tomorrow? That's the date you told me. That's the one all the red 'x's lead up until. Tomorrow. Right?"

"Iz—"

"Not tomorrow," Izzie said slowly.

"Not exactly," Addison said tactfully.

"So, when?"

"Izzie. More than anything else in this world.. I want you to come to New York," Addison said hesitantly, forcing out each word. She knew this would not go well.

"It'll be a while until I can take a holiday," Izzie replied, her voice becoming uncontrollably shrill.

"You know that's not what I mean," Addison sighed, leaning back in her chair, spinning round to the view of her city from her window.

"Then why don't you spell it out for me?" Izzie said through gritted teeth.

"Izzie. I want—Need you to reconsider what we talked about before I came here."

"You want me to leave Seattle, my friends, my work, for New York? And you wait until the day you're supposed to be coming home to tell me this?" Izzie spat.

"Iz. This is an amazing hospital. An amazing team of residents – you'd fit right in. There are things you see here that Seattle Grace can only dream about. And this city – I can't describe it to you in proper words but you'll love it. I promise you, you will love life here," Addison pitched earnestly.

Izzie sighed deeply. "I knew this would happen," she said softly, more to herself than Addison.

"Izzie," Addison shook her head. "I didn't want to love it as much as I do… but I do!" she nervously laughed. "I love this job and being here… And the thought of going back to Seattle to the hospital where everything is so suffocating and twisted romantic dramas take place every other day... It's exhausting. Here, _here_, I'm Addison Montgomery, Chief of Surgery. I do what I do, and I'm good at what I do and people respect me for it. They don't gossip about me and see me as that floozy who cheated on Shepherd with Sloane—"

"And then took up with an intern a decade younger than her?" Izzie said bitterly.

"That was not the end of that sentence," Addison said, a bit too harshly.

"Well. It sounds great," Izzie said finally. "Your new life there."

"And all I want is you here."

"And what do you think will happen to me there?" Izzie asked rhetorically. "You—Working twenty hours most days. Me—Strange place, no friends, not likely to make many when I'm known as the Chief's girlfriend. We won't see each other. I'll be miserable and alone. We'll fight, we'll break up and I'll be nowhere."

"Nice to see you've actually considered the possibility that this move would be good for us," Addison retorted.

"You don't think I've thought about it while you've been away? We've seen each other _once_ in three months. And you seemed so happy with what you were doing – I had to consider it. I have considered it – realistically considered it, Addison," Izzie added in a somewhat condescending tone of voice. "But I couldn't. My friends are my family. My support system – Meredith, Cristina, Alex and George – We're _family_."

"George. Of course George," Addison said, rolling her eyes.

"Just drop that," Izzie warned. "There is nothing and never has been anything going on."

"Calli called me about a month ago. Mostly for a chat. But you know what she told me? The reason she and George divorced. Has he told you?" Addison asked, sitting bolt upright, feeling anger rise inside her. Part of her knew it was irrational, but she felt the overwhelming urge to lash out.

"No," Izzie said sullenly.

"He told her he was in love with someone else. Need any clues?"

"God, that doesn't matter. He's my best friend and I love him in a way but I will never be in love with him so the jealousy thing can just—"

"Even though he's already kissed you?" Addison shot back. "How do I know that's the only time? It's not like you would tell me. And you have been there for three months without--"

"Without you watching over any move George and I make? Because I'm clearly untrustworthy. And for the record: I would tell you and he hasn't," Izzie replied angrily. "Just let it go. This isn't about him, this is about you and your… your selfishness."

Addison nodded slowly, wiping the angry tears from her eyes. "Maybe it is selfish. But I don't think I can be happy like this in Seattle. And you…" she trailed off, clearing her throat. "You don't think you can be happy here. So…"

"So..?" Izzie filled.

"So," Addison said with a degree of finality. She clamped a hand over her mouth, suffocating the rising sob.

"Right," Izzie nodded furiously, looking upwards to stem the flow of her tears. "Right. OK. So. I have to go," she choked out, squeezing her eyes shut. The phone dropped to her side and she let it fall to the floor.

Hearing the clatter on the other end, Addison replaced the phone gently in the cradle before letting out a heart wrenching sob.

--

On Monday morning, Meredith, Cristina, George and a reluctant Alex gathered in the downstairs lobby by the coffee stand. They were discussing the best place and time to tell Izzie about Addison's imminent arrival the next day.

"So. We go out tonight. Get her drunk. Tell her," Alex suggested, handing over the money for his coffee.

"Then she forgets because she's wasted," Meredith finished, shaking her head. "Yeah. That'll achieve a lot."

"Or she could phone Montgomery drunk and yell at her," Cristina supplied.

"Yeah. That'd suck too," George nodded.

"So. No telling her drunk," Meredith warned Alex.

"Well. She's gonna _wanna_ get drunk when we tell her," Alex pointed out. "I was just stepping up the pace."

"Right. We tell her tonight. At the house. All of us there. Showing support," Meredith told them. "I've kept my mouth shut so far. But now, we do it my way."

The rest of the group slowly nodded, save for George who was staring outside.

"Guys—" he said slowly.

"She'll be fine. We're making too big a deal out of this," Cristina shrugged. "I bet she's fine."

"Me too," Alex agreed.

"I don't," Meredith said, furrowing her brow.

"Guys—" George repeated.

"So. Nice relaxed dinner. Some wine—not too much. A movie—"

"Die Hard," Alex said immediately.

"Yeah right," Cristina scoffed. "Legally Blonde more like. I bet you cried."

"Whatever," Alex rolled his eyes.

"Guys!" George interrupted, his eyes still fixated.

"What?" Meredith asked. He pointed outside to a yellow cab dropping off a passenger.

"I think we need another plan," George said slowly. They all followed his gaze to the statuesque red head walking towards them.

"Crap!" Meredith exclaimed.

"Shit," Cristina mumbled.

"I thought you said _three days_, George!" Meredith hissed. "Like – Sunday, Monday, _Tuesday._ Not like Saturday, Sunday, _Monday."_

"That's how the Chief counts!" George protested. "I can't control how the Chief counts!"

"To any logical person it's Sunday, Monday, _Tuesday,_" Meredith whined. Addison had now spotted them, giving them a brief, uncomfortable wave. "Alex, go find Izzie."

"I'm not telling her!" he said immediately.

"Just keep her somewhere else, idiot," Cristina commanded. "Go."

Addison had reached the group, nodding and smiling at all of them.

"Addison. Good to see you. Good flight? All right, I have to go," Alex blurted, turning around and heading for the elevator.

"That was.. strange," Addison said slowly.

"Alex is strange," Meredith awkwardly smiled. "He's gotten stranger. How are you?"

"How's being Chief?" Cristina enquired.

"It's good," Addison nodded cordially.

"Better be," George mumbled. "Seeing as you left.. _Seattle_ for it."

Addison showed him a thinly veiled smiled and sweetly said, "Well O'Malley. Life does not begin and end in Seattle. Maybe you'll understand that better when you get a bit older. And grow some chest hair."

"Right.." Meredith said, studying the pair.

"Well. I should go and see Richard and my patient. Are they in yet?" Addison asked.

"We're expecting them sometime this afternoon," Meredith said as professionally as she could muster.

"OK. Well I'll see you all later," Addison smiled, heading for Richard's office.

"Jesus!" Cristina exclaimed once Addison was out of earshot. She rounded on George. "You two couldn't have been any worse than if you were baring your teeth, arching your backs and peeing all over Izzie."

"Whatever," George muttered after a momentary pause. He walked off in the opposite direction.

"What do we do now?" Meredith sighed.

--

By lunch time, no one had managed to get Izzie alone long enough to work up the courage to tell her. Miraculously, Izzie hadn't ran into Addison accidentally or even heard that she was here. Somehow the gossip mill had developed some kind of emotional sensitivity, not blurting this fact out to Izzie. For that, her friends were grateful. If this news came from anyone but them, they knew Izzie could rain Hell upon them for keeping her in the dark.

Meredith had planned to get Izzie out of the hospital at lunch to the bagel place a block away to tell her. What she hadn't counted on was Becki showing up, armed with a couple of coffees and sandwiches for herself and Izzie.

"No screaming lunch hall full of teenagers for you today?" Izzie queried, grinning at Becki.

"School's on holiday this week, so I thought I'd surprise you," Becki told her. "What about by the water?"

"Great," Izzie agreed with a kiss. "I'll just go let Bailey know. It's only five minutes away but better she know than crucify me later."

"Agreed," Becki laughed, having heard a lot about the infamous Miranda Bailey.

--

As much as Addison adored New York, there would always be a big part of her in Seattle. She had only spent a few years here and despite the cold, damp weather, she had grown to love it a lot. Of course, a lot of that was Izzie's fault.

The water had been Addison's favourite part. She always loved staring out at the ocean. She would do it for hours on end at the Hamptons, just sitting on the sand and staring. It calmed her down, which was exactly why Addison was walking along the waterfront before her patient arrived.

She hadn't seen Izzie all morning which was making her more and more anxious. It had to happen and until it did it felt like this was all building up to a cataclysmic event. She knew it would probably turn out to be nothing more than a short, stilted polite conversation in which they would say nothing at all.

Until it happened, the image of it would only get more and more disastrous in Addison's imagination.

She had been in such deep thought that she didn't recognise the blonde sitting up against the path wall until it was too late. It was her. Izzie was right in front of her, barely fifteen feet away.

Addison double took, convinced it was a mirage since Izzie had been plaguing her thoughts ever since she got the phone call from Richard.

As she got closer, she noticed that someone was with Izzie. A woman. Meredith?

Not Meredith.. As Izzie was kissing Not-Meredith.

Addison couldn't halt her approach and couldn't slow down. She was on a crash course for this disastrous, cataclysmic meeting.

Izzie stopped kissing the woman and played with her hair affectionately. Izzie's eyes wandered to the sea and then to Addison.

Addison tried to smile, nod or acknowledge Izzie in any human way possible but she had completely frozen. Apart from her feet. They were still carrying her ever onwards.

She was close enough to see that Izzie had blanched and her eyebrows were sharply raising, not believing what she was seeing. From this reaction, Addison could deduce that Izzie had no idea that she was even flying in to Seattle.

"A-Addison?" Izzie said slowly as she came to a grinding halt. Addison took a deep breath and put on her best forced smile as the Not-Meredith turned to face her.

"Izzie.. Dr Stevens," Addison fumbled.

"Why—" Izzie trailed off as she groped for the Not-Meredith's hand.

"Work," Addison shrugged, attempting to appear as relaxed as possible. "Conjoined pregnant twins. Well. One of them is pregnant. One pregnant conjoined twin."

"Why haven't I heard of it?" Izzie replied, trying her level best to seem shrill or flustered.

"Wow, a pregnant conjoined twin," the other woman interjected, trying to defuse a potential Izzie-powderkeg. "That's really incredible. I'm Rebecca, by the way," she introduced, holding her hand out to Addison.

As Addison shook Rebecca's hand, Izzie supplied, "Becki. Becki is a teacher. And my girlfriend. This is Dr Montgomery – Addison. She used to work at the hospital."

"Another surgeon then?" Becki laughed. "Seems like all Izzie's friends are surgeons."

"We don't get out much. Vocational hazard," Addison said softly, feeling her forced smile fade. She willed herself to look away from Izzie, not to stare. But she couldn't believe that Izzie was more beautiful than she had remembered. And Addison had a pretty good memory.

"Well. I need to get back to work," Izzie said suddenly, feeling Addison's eyes on her. She jumped from the wall and smoothed herself down. "If I missed a pregnant conjoined twin, I wonder what else has been going on."

"I'm going this way," Addison pointed in the opposite direction. "So I'll see you back at the hospital, Stevens."

Izzie swore her legs just physically turned to jelly. _Stevens._

"Walk you back?" Becki offered.

"No, it's OK," Izzie said, clearing her throat. "I'll see you tomorrow night though?"

"Absolutely," Becki nodded, leaning in for a kiss. A kiss that was too long and too intimate for Addison to bear to be in the same vicinity as the couple. She turned slowly away and willed her legs to carry her as far away as possible.

It was only a minute before she heard a voice calling her. Spinning around, she hoped it would be Izzie. It was not. It was Becki, the teacher, the girlfriend. Izzie's girlfriend.

"Dr Montgomery," Becki called, approaching Addison at a light jog. "I thought we could walk together. I'm headed towards the ferry dock."

Addison could do nothing but nod in agreement.

"So you were Izzie's boss then?"

_Izzie didn't tell you about me, _Addison thought; Unsure of whether that was a good or a bad thing.

"I was her Attending," Addison replied. "Now I'm Chief of New York Presbyterian surgery."

"Wow, New York," Becki nodded. "Exciting."

"I grew up there," Addison shrugged.

"So why Seattle?" Becki asked, interested. "Trading in the Big Apple for here. It's a little bizarre."

"It's not that different," Addison said slowly. "And I was trying to make my marriage work. It didn't. So I left."

"So, you and Izzie _didn't_ date?" Becki asked abruptly. Addison stopped walking and turned to face the woman. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be blunt. It's just that back there.. Well I've been dating long enough to recognise a first meeting between the exes when it hits me between the eyes."

"Oh," was all Addison could muster.

"Sorry. Again. But was it a secret.. thing?" she guessed hesitantly. "I mean, you weren't seeing her when you were with your husband..?"

"No," Addison said immediately, shaking her head fiercely. "No. Definitely not."

"OK. Just wanted to check this wasn't something I had to keep quiet about, you know?" Becki said genuinely.

"Well. It's not," Addison replied statically, still very much taken aback. "I'm sorry, I have to get back. My patient's due any minute."

"Oh. OK," Becki nodded. "Nice meeting you. Good luck."

Addison's smile was just a little too forced. "Thanks."

--

Addison knew it would be horribly awkward. She knew it would be. But watching Izzie scrub out, Addison just _had_ to talk to her. It had been too long and their first meeting with Izzie's current girlfriend in the sidecar had been anything but productive.

Addison had to gauge Izzie on a one to one level. _What am I searching for?_ She asked herself, tilting her head to study Izzie arduously and thoroughly cleaning her hands.

The two answers that presented themselves were either closure; or a chance. It was just the tiniest part of Addison that wanted closure. And it was the tiny part that would hate closure if she got it.

Sighing, she made her decision and pushed the door of the scrub room open.

Izzie whirled around at once to see who had entered; clearly she was anxious and hyper aware that after eleven months of not seeing Addison in person that she could appear at any moment.

Izzie's chest constricted painfully. Just because she was alert and aware of Addison's returned presence in the hospital, it didn't exactly make it any easier seeing her in the flesh.

In fact, Izzie still hadn't recovered from their first meeting by the sea. That was the single most jarring and painful experience of her personal life. After breaking up with someone, it's easy to imagine them walking back into your life one day. One does not exactly expect it to happen for real.

Izzie sighed and turned back to the sink to finish washing her hands. She knew Addison wasn't in surgery. She was only here for the one case. The red head had come in specifically to speak to her.

Izzie heard a sharp intake of breath as her ex attempted to talk to her.

"So.. You want in?" Addison asked Izzie's back awkwardly. "On my surgery. You want in on my surgery?"

"No thanks," Izzie said pleasantly. "I'm not an intern anymore, begging for any little scrap of scalpel action the attendings choose to throw my way. I have my own patients."

"I didn't mean it as an insult," Addison shook her head. She laughed nervously and played with her necklace. "I mean. Come on. This is going to be incredible. I cannot find another record of this happening, Iz. You don't want to—"

"Don't call me Iz," Izzie broke in quietly, staring into the scrub sink.

"So, it's Dr Stevens now then?" Addison guessed sarcastically.

Izzie closed her eyes, feeling her knees shudder momentarily. How much her professional name rolling off Addison's tongue made her want to forget the past eleven painful months.

_A momentary urge. A lapse_, Izzie insisted to herself.

"So. Not 'Doctor Stevens'," Addison said slowly in a low, seductive tone.

"No," Izzie stressed, still staring down the plughole.

"OK. So what do I call you?" Addison enquired, moving forward to the sink. Cautiously, she reached out to place her hand over Izzie's white knuckles.

At first contact, Izzie snatched her own hand away, holding it to her body. She gave Addison a look of utter disbelief.

"Just don't _call_ me," Izzie told Addison, shooting her an unfathomable expression and tearing for the exit.

--

"I know this is another issue entirely, but can I ask if anyone has ever talked to you about separation?" Derek asked the twins, pulling up a stool.

"Of course they have."

"You think our whole lives no one's given the speech you're about to give us?"

"Well.." Derek started, embarrassed.

"How we only share cartilage and a small bit of flesh—"

"—And how it would only take a few snips to prise us apart?"

"Well. Yes," Derek nodded feverently. "The surgery wouldn't take long. The risks are very low in comparison to other conjoined twin separations. There really is no reason why this can't be a completely successful surgery."

"No _medical_ reasons, Doctor."

"We don't want to be separated. We've lived our entire lives with the other by our side."

"Imagine how that would feel – to turn your head, expecting to see your sister."

"And it's empty. We'd be alone."

Derek smiled at both of them. "All right then. I can see where my counsel's not needed. I'll see both you girls in surgery."

He stood up and passed the chart to Addison who had been listening to this from the door. The formerly married couple left the room and continued down the hall.

"They don't want to be alone, but they're having a baby."

"Alice is the one having the baby," Addison reminded him.

"It'll _feel_ like they both are. It's a commitment for both of them. They're not alone, remember?"

"Derek, do you ever feel alone?" Addison asked abruptly. He turned to her, with a sad expression marking his features. He looked around and then gently tugged her arm into an empty examination room.

"This is about Izzie," he told her.

"I never said—"

"That was a statement, not a question, Addy," Derek smiled softly. "You've got New York. You've got the job. I think I'm gonna have to wait for Richard to have a breakdown before I get this one," he added as a throwaway aside. "But you've got it. And now you think it wasn't worth the girl."

"I asked you a question first," Addison said stubbornly.

"Of course I get lonely. Everyone does – whether you're single or happily married."

"No. I asked if you ever felt alone. It's different."

"How so?"

"Loneliness is a state of mind, it's fleeting. Alone is a state of being."

He looked at her quizzically. "Not sure I agree with your definition, Ms Webster. But I feel both."

"But you and Meredith—"

"But nothing. We're not talking about me. We're talking about you and Izzie."

"There is no me and Izzie," Addison told him, a sad glint in her eye.

"Addy, do you need—"

"I don't need anything Derek, thank you," Addison said stiffly, wiping her eyes discreetly and standing up.

"Addy. I can be here for you," Derek told her firmly. "I want to be."

Addison thought about shooting off a sarcastic reply which referred to Meredith in some way. But Derek's concerned expression made her think better of exercising that reflex instinct.

--

"Hey, Iz," Meredith called, bringing her tray over to sit at Izzie's table. Izzie barely made any move to recognise the woman sitting across from her.

"I take it you've heard about this amazing surgery then?" Izzie asked sarcastically, not looking up from her dinner.

"I have," Meredith replied, taking a deep breath.

"When did you hear?" Izzie asked suspiciously, still poking at her potatoes.

"A few days ago," Meredith said quietly.

"Thought so," Izzie nodded, rubbing her neck. She still refused to meet Meredith's eyes. "I thought that's why everyone had been avoiding me like the plague."

"Izzie, I'm sorry," Meredith said quickly. "I wanted to tell you but everyone else thought it would be better to wait and it turned out we got the wrong day anyway, and she just showed up—"

"I don't care," Izzie said blandly.

"Iz, you're not fooling me."

"Yeah? Well I still don't care."

"Have you talked yet? To her?" Meredith asked hesitantly.

"She ran into Becki and I outside at lunch. And she cornered me in the scrub room."

"And?"

"And nothing. I still don't care. She could follow me around all day and I wouldn't care. She come back and could be Chief of Surgery here for all I care," Izzie intoned huffily. "She could start sleeping on the couch in your house for all I care. She could—"

"Ok, I get it. You don't care," Meredith said quickly, holding her hands up.

"Absolutely," Izzie nodded, raising her head to meet Meredith's stare.

"Oh, Izzie," Meredith said softly, reaching forward to take her friends hand. Izzie quickly recoiled and pulled it off the table.

"I'll see you later," Izzie mumbled, leaving her tray on the table and wandering off.

--

"Dr Grey, nice to see you again," Addison greeted pleasantly, as she leaned up on her elbows to see who had just entered the on-call room. Addison had barely been back half a day and she was already exhausted.

"Did you even think? At _all_?" Meredith hissed, half slamming the door shut. Addison swung her legs out of the bunk and looked at Meredith face on.

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously.

"Izzie. Did you even think about her at all?" Meredith fumed.

"Of course I did, that's not why I'm here!" Addison protested. She opened her mouth to argue back with Meredith but the young resident ploughed on.

"No, I don't think you did!" she exclaimed, hands in the air. "Do you even know what kind of a state she was in after you broke up with her from New York?"

"I—"

"Neither do we! She took off for a week, presumably right after that phone call. We didn't know where she was, why or what kind of way she was in… For all we knew she could have been dead. No note, no nothing," Meredith raged. "We called your _secretary_, I don't know if you remember. _She_ informed us no Isobel Stevens had been seen at NY Presbyterian and that Dr Montgomery was refusing all calls from Seattle Grace. We searched everywhere, filed a police report, called her mother… And then she shows up after a week. Like nothing's wrong. Like she hasn't been anywhere," Meredith finished with a sigh.

"I… I didn't know," Addison stuttered, twisting her hands together.

"Yeah. Well. You must've just thought she got over it as quickly as you did," Meredith scoffed. "She didn't. It took Izzie a lot to get where she is nearly a year later. And in one fell swoop you've come in and shit all over that."

"Grey," Addison bit, feeling her face getting hotter by the second. "I did not come back for Izzie. I came back for a _patient._ I am a _surgeon_. I had an _obligation_. This wasn't something I could turn my back on—"

"—Like you turned your back on Izzie, you mean?" Meredith snarked.

"I am your boss—" Addison started, rising up. As much as she could like Meredith, she absolutely detested being on the losing side of any fight with this woman.

"Not anymore, you're not," Meredith pointed out. "You're the boss of dozens of doctors on another coast. You're a visiting surgeon here. That's how you wanted it. So don't pull the 'boss' card on me and expect me to get all faint hearted. You have a problem. You need to either fix things or stay the Hell out of Izzie's way. Every time you try to see her or talk to her for your own sake, you're doing her more damage than is necessary."

When Meredith had finished, she was breathing fiercely. She shot Addison an angry glance and left the room, rattling the door in its frame as she slammed it shut.

"Meredith _fucking_ Grey," Addison muttered, slumping back onto her pillow.

--

After closing her eyes for what seemed like seconds, another body entered the on-call room. Addison opened her eyes sleepily to see if Grey had come back for round two.

"Sorry," the shape muttered, turning to exit again.

Though Addison's bleary eyes couldn't see who it was, a comforting and familiar scent wafted over her. And she was struck by the oddest urge to break down in tears.

"_I'm sorry I let you down. I should have been more focused." _

"_Hey… You didn't let me down, OK?"_

"_I love you a ridiculous amount."_

"_Like a billion gagillion."_

"_More."_

"_You are so cute."_

"Izzie?" Addison called out, attempting to shift her body out of the bed.

"Just my luck it'd be you," Izzie muttered from a dark corner of the room.

"Izzie, lock the door," Addison commanded shakily. "And come here."

Addison noted than she didn't lock the door, but that the dark shape was emerging from the darkness and moving towards her bed. Izzie leaned on the top bunk, unwilling to stoop down or sit on the bed with her ex. Addison rolled onto her feet and stood up beside the blonde.

Izzie would not turn to face her, instead she was concentrating on the woven pattern of the hospital bed sheets.

"Izzie, I'm sorry if my coming here upset you," Addison told her in a low voice. Still she was looking at the back of Izzie's head. "I'm sorry that I need to be here."

"I understand," Izzie swallowed, tracing her finger over the pattern. "Pregnant conjoined twins – You're hardly gonna give it to Alex. You want the best."

Momentarily, Addison's heart swelled. She had never had a huge ego but always loved how Izzie admired her work and was her first public defender. The thought that Izzie still regarded her as 'the best' after all that had happened was something special indeed.

"Thank you," Addison said quietly, resisting the urge to try and touch the soft hair trailing down Izzie's back that had been wound around her fingers so many times before.

"Well it's public knowledge," Izzie replied harshly. Addison faltered and shook her head. Izzie was not willing to give her an inch.

"I know now is probably not the time to talk about what happened with us. I don't even know if you want to. But if you do, then perhaps we could sometime before I leave?" Addison suggested. "Give us both some—"

"—Closure," Izzie finished.

"If that's what you want."

"What I'd really want, Addison?" Izzie asked in clipped tones, turning to face the red head at last. "What I'd really want is for you to—"

The door swung open, bathing the room in the sterile light from the corridors. A small intern peeked in.

"Uh, Doctor Montgomery? I was told I'd find you here. You're needed in the OR," the intern said timidly, immediately recognising the thick tension in the room.

"The OR?" Addison repeated. "I only have one case and that's—"

"It's another case. The Chief asked for you."

Addison nodded slowly. "I'll be right there."

"He said it's personal, it's really urgent—"

"I said I'll be right there!" Addison snapped out of frustration. With that, the intern was sent scurrying from the room. She turned back to Izzie, who she was surprised to find, still staring at her. "Izzie—" she implored.

"Chief said it's urgent," Izzie told her, clucking her tongue.

A look of exasperation crossed Addison's face before she quickly slipped on her shoes and headed to the OR.

Once the door swung shut, Izzie sank down on the bed that Addison had vacated and let out the deep breath she had been holding.

She squashed her face into the pillow and breathed in the mint scented shampoo that Addison still used. It was masochistic of her, but Izzie let the smell take her back to many memories forgotten in this room, with Addison.

"_Since I had no warning, no shopping time, your gift is pretty last minute. It's not wrapped either."_

"_You shouldn't have gotten me a present."_

"_Tough. And you better like it."_

"_Was that it? Because I like it."_

"_No, smartass. I love you. I'm in love with you."_

"_I love it. And I love you."_


	8. Distance: VIII

_A/N_ : To all (or any) who are still with me. I hope you are, cause I'm not done yet. It's been a while, but I still love to know what you think. It is a -little- shorter than you're used to from me, but it seemed like an obvious cut off point. grin

Not so much short 'n' sweet as short(er) 'n' brutal.

* * *

"It's horrible being this close, you know?" Addison simpered, tossing back her fifth Sambuca in the past hour. "It's different. You're in a different city from the ex, it makes getting over them so much easier. If you're _really_ fortunate – or perhaps really soulless – then you can forget they ever existed. But when they're there. And you're there. And all you want to do is reach out and run your hands through their hair or kiss them on the cheek or slip a hand round their waist—Because that's normal. It's normal how _you_ remember it. You used to do that all the time—Why not now? It's like having parts of normal life revoked. Like no coffee. Or no alcohol. You haven't had any time together when you were apart so to be in the same place now is just confusing. You know?" 

"Believe it or not, I did just understand the point of that little rant there," Joe grinned, removing Addison's glass. "Whether it's because I've felt like that before or because I've been tending bar too long: Who knows?"

"Well, I don't know," Addison shrugged, attempting a shaky dismount from her barstool. "I don't know anything anymore."

"I know I should probably call you a cab," Joe told her as she made her way to the ladies room by clinging onto side of the bar. "Because whatever you're back in town for – I can't imagine it's to break the world Sambuca drinking record."

"Probably not, no," Addison murmured, stumbling off.

Joe looked up to see that another Seattle Grace surgeon had just arrived. "Derek, how are you? What can I get you, man?"

"Just a beer," he said in a low voice, sliding onto the stool that Addison had just vacated.

"That old, ex-wife of yours is puking up through the back," Joe told him with a jerk of the head.

"'OLD?!'" shrieked Addison, who was apparently not quite out of earshot yet. She reappeared quickly and hung onto the side of the bar as she readied herself to unleash her full, drunken fury. "Did you just call me 'old?'"

"I-- No," Joe stuttered. "Addison, I—"

"He_did_ just call me old, didn't he?" she demanded from Derek, slamming a hand down on the bar-top. Derek smiled softly as he recognised the familiar indignant rage she had worked herself into.

"I think he meant old wife as in not my new wife, or my current wife. What he _should_ have said was 'former'," Derek replied clearly, tilting his beer towards Joe triumphantly. "Wrangling out of that one deserves another beer, don't you think Joe?"

"Yes! Yes! Former wife, that's _exactly_what I meant," Joe told her edgily. He laughed nervously. "Former,_not_old. Because you're not old. Well. I mean, you don't look old."

Derek shook his head as Joe dug himself deeper and deeper in.

"You—You don't look a day over thir—twenty-five," Joe told her decidedly, folding his arms.

"Twenty-five?" Addison repeated, looking as if the wind had been knocked out of her. "Twenty-frickin'-five? I'm supposed to believe that crap? If I was twenty-five I'd be on spring break picking up all the slutty, hot chicks in the Hamptons. Or the Keys. I'd be medicating myself for the third bout of crabs. And I'd be drunk."

"One out of three," Derek breathed into his bottle.

"If you're going to 'try' and compliment a woman by telling her she looks younger than she is – then pick something else: an attainable, believable target that's not so obviously a _lie!_"

Still seething, Addison groped along the bar and hurried to the bathroom.

"Great to have her back, huh?" Joe joked weakly, uncapping another bottle for Derek.

"Yeah. Don't feel too bad – Addy's got a tendency to go ka-boom when someone mentions ages or birthdays. But that was a devastatingly bad lie," he shook his head disapprovingly.

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Joe replied grimly. "You OK, Shepherd? You don't seem quite there."

"Girl stuff," Derek swallowed his beer. "Isn't it always girl stuff?"

Joe looked at him with an obvious stare. Derek caught on, nodding quickly.

"Yeah, right. Sorry. Well. Not for you then, lucky bastard," Derek sighed. He polished off the rest of the beer and slammed the bottle on the surface. "I think once the _former_ wife has finished puking, I'll get her a taxi home."

"Always playing the good guy."

"It's a curse."

-

"So, you're taking this drunk, _old_ex-wife home then?" Addison laughed as she grabbed hold of Derek's shoulder to steer her out of _Joe's._

"You're not old," Derek replied quietly, keeping tight hold of her as they emerged into the fresh air. He raised his hand to hail a taxi.

"Yeah," Addison scoffed, stumbling away from Derek to rest her back on the wall. Derek started to move towards her to scoop her up again but she held a finger out against his chest. "I'm not exactly young though, am I?"

"This is a trick question," he grinned, playfully scratching his stubbled chin. "And if you're old – I'm old. And that's something I simply refuse to accept. The universe cannot be that cruel."

"I mean, I'm not a frickin' _zygote_ like her," Addison mocked, her eyes half closed. "I mean, I haven't just started my period, or anything. I'm not all fresh-faced, pimply, training bra, bright little do-gooder like _her._"

"Like who?" Derek asked slowly, hoping the answer wasn't painfully obvious. "Mer—"

"Becki," Addison forced out through gritted teeth.

"Becki, who? Who's Becki?"

"Her new girlfriend," Addison said, rolling her eyes and jabbing her finger onto Derek's chest again. "Operative word here being_girl._"

Derek opened and closed his mouth before the answer hit him. "Oh. You mean… Izzie's…"

"Yes. Izzie's teenager."

"Think you're being a bit hyperbolic here?" Derek asked softly.

"You know her well," Addison realised suddenly. "Sleeping over at Meredith's. You know her! You have muesli with her! You see her first thing in the morning! You traitor!"

"Sometimes," Derek nodded, turning his attention back to hailing a taxi.

"Is she really ugly first thing in the morning with no make-up? Really bad morning breath? Tell me she's completely dull over breakfast?" Addison fired at him.

"She's fine, I honestly don't know her much," Derek said firmly, still not facing his ex.

"Yeah, right. I bet you all _love_ her. You and George and Meredith. You all _love_ Becki," Addison taunted, sneering. "You all sit about and talk about how much love—"

"I don't see her because I'm hardly ever there," Derek snapped as a taxi pulled out in front of them.

"Why?" Addison asked as she pushed herself from the wall.

"Addy, taxi's here. Will you get in, please?" Derek asked firmly as he turned to her but still didn't meet her eyes.

"This conversation's not ending here," Addison warned him, climbing into the taxi as if she was mounting an elephant. She grabbed his arm and pulled him in.

"Archfield, please."

--

"I think you just gotta lay it on her," Addison told Derek as she collapsed on her bed, yawning. "Just lay it out there. On her. Out there. Just do that."

"I'm not even sure it's worth it," Derek sighed, pulling off Addison's shoes and flipping her legs round onto the bed. He scooped her up, pulling her forward so he could manoeuvre his ex-wife out of her jacket. She rested a head against his chest as he did so, her eyes closing and surrendering herself to being pulled around like a doll.

He extracted the jacket and hung it over the back of the dressing table chair.

Without thinking and without inhibitions, Addison began to unbutton her shirt, peeling the silk from her shoulders and discarding it on the floor.

Derek could not will himself to stop watching her as she lay back and attempted to wriggle out of her trousers. After much energy was expended writhing, Addison seemed to have given up. She felt the world swim before her eyes, dizzying her and soothing her.

When she had come to a stop, Derek inched back to the bed, sitting down. He cautiously placed a hand on either side of the offending article of clothing which was stuck above Addison's knees.

Sliding his thumbs into the belt loops, he tugged them down gently, careful not to touch the skin he was uncovering. He freed the garment and tossed it to the floor.

"Addison?" he whispered, his hand hovering over the smooth flesh of Addison's thigh.

"Derek?" she mumbled, opening her eyes and forcing herself to sit forward. When her eyes adjusted, she saw him staring at her hopelessly. "Derek, what is it?"

"Addison, do you ever think we made a mistake?" he asked softly, his hand still not daring to lay upon her.

"I'm sure I'm the one who made the mistake, Derek," Addison returned dryly, attempting to ignore that familiar stare.

"I've missed you when you were gone," he said, tight lipped and looking away from her.

"You didn't miss me when I was here," Addison said confusingly. "I mean—"

"I know what you mean. I was married to you for over a decade, remember?" Derek smiled. "Nothing will ever compare to that."

"I don't know, Derek. I'm not the love of your life, remember?" Addison pointed out, pushing her hair back.

"Aren't you?" he asked, gazing at her.

"Well," she muttered, staring at her knees. "You're not the love of m—"

Her words were silenced as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. She felt a cold hand rest on her thigh as he pushed forward into the kiss.

Addison's swimming world was centred by this kiss. Concentrating on one thing made it easier to focus and control. His other hand slid into her hair, gently squeezing the nape of her neck. Old, familiar: like it used to be. She sighed. She remembered this.

This was familiar. In this obscure, swimming, dancing, whirling world – kissing felt safe. In these moments, Addison didn't think much about who was on the other end of the kissing. That didn't seem to be a significant detail.

So she kept kissing. This still felt safe. It still felt safe as her body shifted further, sliding down to lying as a weight oppressed her from above. This felt safe.

Her lips disengaged and the world muddled again. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hands over her face.

The fluttering kisses down her neck; the hot, exposed flesh against her chest; the warm tongue dipping into her belly button: This was being to feel less and less safe.

But then lips returned to hers and it felt all right again for a moment, until the coolness of a silver belt buckle shifted against her abdomen. The belt was tugged off and joined Addison's clothes on the hotel room floor. Denim grazed against her thighs as it resisted removal.

She felt her name muttered desperately into her mouth. She was being to feel less at ease with the urgency of the situation.

A deep gasp choked her throat and her eyes flew open as she got a grasp on what was happening.

Everything was clearer, sharper and less safe than ever before. Derek was on top of her, kissing her, inside her and moaning her name with a gentle reverence.

She was immobile for several moments, minutes or hours as her usually-sharp brain struggled to process this.

When she had, there was only one conclusion. This was Derek. And Derek was not Izzie. He never would be.

"Derek," she half-choked, as she unwrapped her arms from him. She pushed back on his shoulders with the little strength she had in her inebriation.

Derek rolled to the other side of the bed, breathing heavily, palms covering his face.

"Addison, I'm sorry if—"

"Derek, you don't love me," Addison told him firmly, sitting up. "I don't love you."

"Addison, I—" he started, reaching over to place a hand on her cheek. She brushed his arm hastily away and pushed herself from the bed. Her underwear was still wrapped around her legs and she fell as she tried to take a step. The hand she put out to break her fall broke the glass face of her watch which was lying on the carpet.

Swearing loudly, Addison picked herself up quickly and fled to the en-suite as she felt sickness rising within her. She slammed the door, gripped the toilet bowl and yelled for Derek to leave.

--

Addison willed her eyes to focus as she stared at the numbers on her keypad. Slowly she punched the buttons, still remembering the number off by heart and knowing that it wouldn't have changed all this time.

"Hello?" a groggy voice answered after two rings.

"Izzie?" Addison asked, clearing her throat. "Iz?"

There was small silence on the other end before Addison cried, "No, don't hang up. Please don't hang up."

Another silence before Izzie sighed and asked, "Is there something at the hospital?"

"No," Addison mumbled, tugging her dressing gown around her knees. She pressed her bleeding hand into the absorbent fabric. With a sharp pang of dread, she remembered a terrible detail. The cut on her hand was inflicted by the glass from the watch Izzie had given her for leaving. On the back was inscribed '_All we have is time – I.S.' _ Addison struggled to stifle another wave of sickness as she remembered crying on the plane as she noticed the message.

"Then why are you calling me this late?" Izzie responded, tight lipped.

"Because I wanted to talk to you," Addison admitted wistfully.

"Addison you have friends for that," Izzie replied, sounding exasperated. "You don't call me this early in the morning when you feel like a_chat_."

"Isobel, it's four am. I'm lying on the bathroom floor in my crappy five star hotel. I think I cut my hand; I'm not at all close to sleep but very close to screaming from pure, unadulterated frustration : I want to talk to you," Addison repeated firmly, doing her best to keep any slurring to a minimum.

Izzie paused again, seemingly considering this request. Finally she sighed and made sounds of movement. "All right. Hold on."

Addison waited patiently, her ear pressed tightly to the phone as she listened to sounds of Izzie leaving her bedroom and descending the stairs. Finally the movement stopped.

"How did you cut your hand?" Izzie asked abruptly, the sudden question startling Addison.

"I don't know," Addison half groaned, racking her brain for a good lie. She attempted to focus her eyes to study the possible source of blood. "Maybe a broken bottle."

"So you're drunk, then?" Izzie asked rhetorically.

"Who says it wasn't a water bottle or—or—"

"OK. What is it you want to talk about?" Izzie asked, sounding impatient.

"Would it make you feel better if I said this was about the case?" Addison joked weakly.

"Is it about the case?"

"No."

"Well it doesn't make me feel better."

"Right," Addison mumbled, furrowing her eyebrows. "So… How are you?"

"Just peachy. Was there anything else?" Izzie asked shortly.

"Izzie, I'm sorry. I am sorry. I'm going to be around for a few days and I just want us to be back on some sort of speaking terms while I'm working here," Addison said, making it up as she went along.

"It's a few days. I could call in sick," Izzie replied pithily. Addison was pleased to note that the harsh edge in her voice had been softened.

"Probably," Addison conceded. "But what would be the point of missing one of the most exciting cases your speciality is ever likely—"

"My speciality?" Izzie echoed. She took a deep breath. "Addison, I'm not an OB-GYN."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, what the Hell are you?" Addison asked.

"General."

"You're general?" Addison repeated, stifling a hiccup. "Izzie, you are anything but _general_. It's just… just another word for ordinary. _You_ are not ordinary. General's not a speciality. It's an opt-out clause. How often do you hear bout the great, famous and wonderful 'General Surgeon' in the medical journals? People don't travel halfway across the continent to see a General Surgeon."

"Maybe I don't want to be world famous, Addison. Maybe I want to focus on the medicine. Or focus on the patients. Or maybe I want to wait and see what Fellowships are on offer when that time comes. Keep my options open. Maybe I don't want to be exactly like you," Izzie replied in a low tone.

Addison chewed her lip as she thought Izzie's words over. "You are anything but general."

Now it was Izzie's time to sit silently, biting her lip. She fought the urge to hiss '_How would you know?'_ and fidgeted with her hair.

"Have you been to the house? Since you got back?" Izzie asked finally.

Addison tried to push herself up from the floor, banging her head off the side of the bathtub as she did so. "Um, no," she muttered, through the pain.

"Oh. Just wondered. Wondered why you were staying at a hotel instead of your house."

"It wasn't just my house," Addison said through gritted teeth, holding her head tightly.

"You don't sound… Are you OK?" Izzie asked hesitantly, reluctant to submit.

"Fine," Addison replied in a strangled voice. "Just hit my head. Between the brain bleed, diced hand and hangover, tomorrow's surgery should be my best ever."

"Sure," Izzie laughed, before stopping abruptly. "Are you—Are you actually OK or are you just, y'know…"

"I'm fine," Addison breathed out as the sharp head pain melted away. "I'm OK. But thank you. Could you please just… Talk to me?"

"I am talking to you," Izzie replied, trying her best to sound belligerent but failing as her voice trailed off. "And I don't see why I should be."

"I know. You should be canonised. But you could just talk - About anything. Anything at all. The weather. Current events. Sport. Medicine. Life. Random crap," Addison pleaded softly, gripping the phone as she tried to push herself into a safe sitting position where she wouldn't do anymore damage.

"My gir—Becki's upstairs," Izzie said quietly.

"Well, I didn't want to hear about her anyway," Addison murmured. "Come on, Iz, anything."

"Is it because you might have a concussion?" Izzie asked, the sudden realisation hitting her.

"No, I'm fine," Addison reiterated.

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"So - you want me to talk to you until you pass from drunk to hungover?" Izzie stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes," Addison smiled. Izzie still knew every inch of her and that comforted Addison no end.

"Right. Well," Izzie started thoughtfully. "How about them Knicks?"

--

Meredith and Cristina slouched over the ground floor coffee stand. They clutched their caffeinated beverages as if they were lifebelts and watched the hospital entrance intently.

"So. Addison called Izzie last night," Meredith yawned.

"How do you know?" Cristina asked, poking at the bran muffin she just bought to stare at.

"Because I went for a glass of water during the night and heard Izzie downstairs. From the sounds of her side of the conversation and the fact she was huddled in a corner, I don't see who else it could be."

"Less she's having an affair with Sloane. Could be Sloane," Cristina pointed out, not even sure why she was arguing an alternate theory at this time in the morning.

"I heard her mention the house," Meredith replied. "What other house's could she have been talking about?"

"Yours," Cristina replied simply.

"It wasn't," Meredith shook her head, yawning again. She paused and turned to her friend.

"Why do we care?"

"Exactly what I was just going to say," Meredith concurred.

"We need lives," Cristina murmured, turning her attention back to the front door.

"Definitely. Lives," Meredith nodded vigorously. After a moment she turned to Cristina again. "Wanna go see what the gossip is on the third floor nursing station?"

"Definitely."

--

It was early when Addison opened her eyes. She'd only had a few hours sleep having been on the phone with Izzie until stupid O'clock in the morning.

Although it hadn't been her finest or most pleasant moment to date, Addison was beginning to feel grateful for her violent sickness the night before. She probably had that to thank for not feeling quite so ill this morning. She hadn't drank like that in quite a while.

She would get into work, grab a cubicle, swipe a banana bag, insert the IV into her arm and catch a few more hours before her surgery.

--

Izzie pulled her coat tightly around her as she walked into Bailey's clinic. She wanted to check up on a patient she'd left last night before changing into her scrubs. Four of the new interns seemed to be in charge of the place although they were standing at the reception desk looking entirely hopeless.

"Dr Stevens! Are you down here with us today?" squeaked Andrews, the one that Izzie noticed had followed her around quite a lot.

"No, just here to check on the patient I couldn't get admitted to the wards last night – Mr Peterson. Where is he?" Izzie asked, scanning the haphazard desk for the chart in question.

"Gone, Dr Stevens," Andrews answered. "There's no one here yet and we haven't had anyone for hours. What do we do?"

"Yeah. We've got nothing to do," added another intern.

"Who's your resident?" Izzie asked, looking around the clinic and noticing one set of curtains drawn around a bed.

"Dr. White," another one responded.

"He's pretty much useless. Just go tell him you need something to do," Izzie suggested, pointing over at the curtain. "I thought you said we had no patients?"

"We don't. That's not a patient," Dr Andrews trailed off as Izzie strode over to the curtained cubicle and pulled back the blue hanging cloth.

There was a familiar red head sitting on the bed looking worse for wear, grasping an IV needle with a look of utmost concentration on her face.

"Addison," Izzie murmured, pulling the curtain behind her and dropping her bag to the floor. She took the needle from Addison's hand and picked up a cleansing wipe.

Addison sighed and rested her body backwards on the tilted bed. "Trying to get that damn banana bag in but my hands are shaking. My hands can't be shaking."

"You must've finished off a brewery," Izzie said softly, focussing on the needle and still not looking into Addison's eyes.

"Evidently, beer is bad," Addison drawled, stifling a yawn.

"Apparently," Izzie replied with a smile. She gently took Addison's outstretched arm, found a clear vein and inserted the needle. She attached the banana bag and set the rate of dosage carefully; prolonging these everyday tasks so she wouldn't have to look at Addison just yet.

"Thank you for last night."

Izzie could feel Addison's eyes all over her but still she concentrated on the dripping liquid inside the clear plastic bag.

"That's OK."

"It's not OK," Addison swallowed, sinking back.

"It's fine," Izzie shrugged off, turning to go. Before she left Addison's side, the red head grabbed hold of her hand, tugging her back firmly.

Izzie had no choice but to look at her.

"Thank you for last night," Addison repeated, gazing up at Izzie in a sleepless haze. "For talking to me when you really didn't have to."

"That's OK," Izzie said, sliding her hand from Addison's grip. "Get a few hours sleep. Everyone's going to be pissed if one of these interns end up in your O.R. because you're still shaking and puking."

Izzie forced a bright smile that she hoped didn't look all too obviously forced. She noticed Addison rubbing her hand at her side which caused Izzie to remember. "Your hand – The cut. Let me see," she commanded, hoping that reverting to M.D. mode would be easier than _this_.

Obediently, Addison held her hand out for inspection. Cautiously Izzie placed her palm under the injured hand and suppressed the stream of swear words rising.

"It's not too bad," Izzie murmured. She was about to reach for the gauze and irrigation equipment but didn't like urgent, dizzying feeling that was creeping over her as she held Addison's hand in her own. She cleared her throat and carefully let go. "I'll send one of those interns in to get that," Izzie told her, hoping to sound detached and 'Doctor-ly' enough that Addison wouldn't argue in her ill state.

The red head just nodded. Izzie inclined her head in return. She raised her eyes to look at her ex and found she was staring at her with an uncomfortable degree of intensity.

"I'll just… go," Izzie stammered, spinning round and trying to find the gap in the blue hospital curtain. Her face was growing hot with frustration and humiliation.

_Pathetic,_she whimpered inside. _I'll have to goddamn crawl under this thing to get free._

To her relief, she separated the two halves of the cloth and yanked them open.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, so shocked was she by the appearance of Derek Shepherd in front of her. "Sorry. You scared me."

"My fault, Stevens," Derek painfully smiled. "Addison's in there?"

"She's right there," Izzie nodded quickly, body swerving him as he passed her. She pulled the curtain behind her and covered her face with her hands, thoroughly feeling like an idiot.

She was about to beckon one of the interns over to fix Addison's hand when she had the nastiest urge to eavesdrop on Addison and Shepherd's conversation.

_Surely it's too early in the morning to be looking for your ex-wife? _Izzie thought. _Then again, what was I doing?_

She should move. It would be the honourable - not to mention sensible – plan of action.

But still, she felt something urge her to stay. It came from the very pit of her stomach and felt unnervingly cold.

Instead of taking a few steps towards the interns, she shuffled back slightly, craning her neck towards the curtain.

"Derek, I can't be—"

_Addison sounds exhausted; perhaps even slightly panicked?_ Izzie stomped on that assumption quickly, not wanting to feel like a sneak _and_ an idiot.

"Addison, sorry, I had to."

_He seems a bit… strange. Desperate? Impassioned?!_

"Can we just forget it. I'm really serious here. I suggest we just forget whatever you're about to say."

_A fight or an argument_? Izzie was surprised, she'd always thought of Addison and Derek on good terms.

"I can't _just_forget it. I've been thinking about that for a very long time."

Izzie's mind was dancing in circles, whirring madly off it's hinges as she contemplated exactly what he was talking about. Their tense conversation hurtled onwards into the path of another train as Derek pushed further and harder.

"What?"

"I said –" Izzie strained to hear as his voice became quieter, her heart beating in rhythm with the train careering along the tracks. "I've been thinking about that for a very, very long time."

"Kill me now."

Izzie could virtually hear the screeching brakes in her head

"Addison, I'm deadly serious."

Izzie's breathing became shallow as she willed not a single muscle to twitch. She saw the blinding headlamps and felt the pang of sheer terror before impact.

"I don't care."

"It wasn't a mistake and we can't take it back and we can't forget about it. It's been nearly four years and it was like I was never away from you. You can't ignore this. We made love, Addison. And I don't regret it – Do you?"

Full head-on collision.


End file.
